The Waves of the Sea
by AneleTiger
Summary: Miriam and Chris are twins, their parents: Will and Elizabeth Turner. After being captured at their 18th birthday, they learn their ultimate fate is to be sold as slaves in the Amazon. But André, a mysterious young pirate, might be their way out...
1. Capture

Authors Note: I hope you like this, please be lenient in your criticism, as I this is my first fanfic and wrote this in approximately thirty minutes, give or take. I would like to disclaim owning any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters, which is something that breaks my heart . But I do own Miriam, Christopher and André! For all you plagiarizers, that is my brain working there and my production. Now, for all of you eager people that are already sneaking peaks at the story…I present the first chapter!

Chapter I: Capture

The sun was but a glimmer in the horizon, its last rays disappearing beyond the sea. The orange and red light cast an eerie glow on the houses of Port Royal. The movement of the people was slow, and the boats were anchored to stay. Nothing but the slight waves disturbed the still calmness of the sea.

Miriam leaned out her window, her sun tanned face turned into a frown. The orange light slipped down the brown waves of her hair, ending lightly on her shoulders. Her gentle brown eyes looked past her straight nose to the sea. She wore nothing more than a white blouse and breeches, showing her frustration. Miriam tilted her head slightly, the brown waves of hair sliding to her left. The horizon stretched endlessly before her, nothing breaking the stillness of the evening calm. The waves of salt water where unseen as the ocean reflected black in the gulf.

"Miriam?" called a stern voice.

Miriam stubbornly stared into the sea before her, ignoring the call.

"Miriam!" the voice called again, louder. A woman walked into the room, her stomach swelled with motherhood. Her hair was put up in a graceful bun and a fashionable rectangular cut dress swished the wood floor. Elizabeth Turner walked resolutely to her daughter, "Miriam! I previously informed you to prepare yourself for the ball tonight. Have you disobeyed me? And where did you ever find those breeches?"

Miriam didn't turn, "I won't go, mother. Not without Christopher. Those balls do not interest me. As for the breeches, they are from Chris's clothes."

Elizabeth sighed. Then a hidden smile crept onto her lips, "You are required to go the ball. There is nothing I can do about that. I am sorry that you don't want to go, but you must. They have already prepared the honors and all the Port will attend."

"Whose idea was it anyways? My birthdays should be spent the way I want them spent."

Elizabeth started working on Miriam's hair, arranging it into a stylish bun with some stray tendrils of hair escaping the diamond pins.

"What do I do if he proposes?" Miriam asked her voice weak.

Elizabeth stopped working for a second. Sighing slowly she resumed sticking the pins into Miriam's stubborn hair, "Miriam…I don't want to pressure you into anything; I know how hard it can be to chose. However, I will say that I believe Andrew to be a very decent and honorable young man. He is handsome and loves you very much. Yet, if you feel you are not ready, then postpone your answer, but never say no. No is too final, and I refuse to let you break that boy's heart."

"I do not love him mother."

"Which dress do you want to wear?" finished Elizabeth.

Miriam pointed to her closet, "You chose."

Elizabeth waddled over to the closet, her swelled stomach weighing her steps. Miriam rested her head on her arms and looked down on the port.

Fires were being light, their flames dancing. Sailors and maidens laughed and drunk, their shadows orange in the fire light. A young man stood, his part of his long black hair braided and adorned in beads. Throwing away the comments and jest of his friends he jumped over the fire. The flames licked at his clothes and boots as he flipped in the air, as gracious as a bird. Landing on the other side, his act was greeted with cheers and whistles. A woman walked over to him, her hands chiding him. The young man leaned back, his smile revealing sparkling white teeth. His friends teased him as the woman swung her rolling roll at his head. Having missed, the woman shook the ground with her fury. The young man removed a rose from his pocket and tossed it to her, as he disappeared into the dark alley.

Miriam craned her neck; but the young man with the black hair had disappeared for good. _His smile…I've seen that smile before…_she though. But she was given no more time to think as her mother dragged her away to be dressed.

"I've heard of your latest escapade Ms. Turner, quite remarkable," giggled a blond haired young woman, her rose colored fan dusting her blue eyes.

Miriam turned from the group of ladies she had been conversing with. Her rectangular cut emerald dress brought out the green in her hazel eyes. It swished the floor lightly as Miriam leaned over to whisper to the girl, "If I ever hear your laugh again Rachel, it will be my pleasure to treat you to a fight. I am good with the staff and Arabic sword; it is, after all, your choice."

The young woman leaned back, her rosy face pale with fear. Miriam's eyes twinkled as Rachel left hurriedly, her dress dragging behind her. _This night will be the end of me…with no one except Rachel and Valerie to talk to they'll soon have to dig my grave, _she thought mildly. Miriam could see her mother laughing with the other mothers, her mother's hand, as always, resting on the swell of her stomach.

Andrew appeared out of nowhere, his blonde hair and blue eyes bright under the chandelier light. Miriam saw how his smile spread as he saw her and blushed. Suddenly she wished that her dress where not as low cut, even though it was modestly cut, and that her seashell necklace given to her by her grandfather was not so bright. Andrew bowed generously. His father was a noble from the English court and as far as Miriam knew, Andrew was the only true noble in Port Royal. Her green dress billowed around her as she plummeted into a curtsy.

"Miriam, I have told you many times not to curtsy as low, you beauty would be wasted if your visage was inclined always to the ground," he said, offering his hand to help her rise.

Miriam smiled, "But it my visage was not often inclined to the ground then it would be snapped into place for eternity by Mr. Robinson, the protocol and etiquette professor."

Andrew beamed at her, his blue eyes never leaving her hazel ones for a second, "Do you wish to walk with me?"

"Could I say no and live to tell about it?"

Suddenly Andrew frowned, "I would never force you to do something that was not of your wishing…"

Miriam interrupted him hurriedly, "No, Lord Andrew, it is not what I meant! The ladies that fight for your glance would be the one's to kill me, never you!" Miriam pretended to act all distraught, "If I ever did anything to upset you, the kind and gentle Lord you are…"

Andrew shone under the praises as he led her to the balcony. The stars played on his awards and medals and danced on Miriam's seashell necklace. Andrew wrapped his arms around her slender shoulders as he looked up to the stars, "Miriam, how long have we known one another?"

_Here comes the question…_she thought, her eyes looking wearily at his arm that chilled her skin, "For two years, we meet in our protocol class."

Andrew sighed, then abruptly he turned her and meet her eyes with his. His blue eyes glinted with a dangerous light and Miriam silently and carefully struggled to keep him from hugging her tight in his embrace.

"Miriam! I must ask you, for my…"

"Lord Andrew! Come and entratain us with stories of your travels!" called Elizabeth, the ladies behind her pressing Andrew with smiles.

"Mrs. Turner…I was going to ask your daughter…" struggled Andrew, the flame in his eyes gone as he let go of Miriam to let his arms hang limply by his sides.

"Now, now, is that the ways to answer the mothers that took care of you?" Elizabeth chided, apparently having consumed a little too much wine, "Come and amuse us, my Lord, when the cloud have parted and the moon shown itself you may talk to my daughter. But for now lovers must part for the mothers, for which my daughter will be very displeased."

Miriam and Andrew blushed, but after having heard Elizabeth's last words Andrew joyfully escorted the ladies back inside, casting Miriam a glace she thought was not proper for a young woman in her status. She sat down on a white bench on the balcony, her gaze never straying from the dark watery expanse in front of her. The night had settled, and the cloak of darkness covered the sky. Stars shone brightly in the absence of the silver orb, lighting up the dark balcony. Behind, yellow and orange light from the chandelier streamed out, but it was stopped as the darkness settled around it, engulfing it in black.

Suddenly a hand reached up from behind to tap her on the shoulder. Miriam turned slowly, expecting to see Andrew standing behind her. But before she could even stand up to excuse herself she was enveloped in a tight hug. Miriam gasped for breath as the strong muscled arms pressed the air out of her lungs.

"Miriam! I so glad to see you! Two months at sea and we though we would never get back in time!"

Miriam pulled out from the hug and strained to see her assailant. His smile broke through the dark, and stars reflected in the eyes that were also hers, "Christopher!"

The young man smiled, his wavy brown hair combed in place. Miriam jumped on him, her joy uncontainable, "Tell me! Tell me everything!"

Chirs sat down, stretching his legs in front of him, "Well, not much to say, Dad and I caught a few ships, but not a big bounty, last time you went with him the bounty was double."

Miriam thrust out her chin and looked at him arrogantly before they both collapsed in laughter, "Aye, that is true, but the season was good then, you got the lower end of the deal this time 'round."

"We were stopped on the way here, but the passage was quickly unblocked, if you catch my meaning…" his hazel eyes glinted mysteriously.

Miriam elbowed him in the ribs, sending the young man into a fit of laughter.

"But father got us here at the right time; he knew mother would be worse than a block if we arrived late. Tell me, how is it…the baby?"

"It'll be born next month, so be prepared to have another sibling! Mother was upset you weren't here in the morning as father promised. After all, who doesn't get here on their birthday?"

Chris feinted innocence then leaned over and hugged Miriam affectionately, "I've missed you, sister. Father was right when he said twins must stay together, we are born to live and die together," He stopped to grin mischievously, "How is you staff and swordsmanship? You should see me go at Ali with the knives now; he barely catches them in time!"

Miriam raised her eyebrows, "You have to get a lot better than you are to best Ali at knives. As for myself…"

They both stopped talking at the same time to reach for their weapons. Miriam was quick to retrieve her curved sword from its scabbard under her dress. Chris twirled a dagger in his hand. The vines that fell over the balcony shifted and swayed, and the crickets and night noises had vanished to leave only stillness and the background music of the ball. Jumping over the wall, three figures charged at the twins. Miriam attacked the first, her blade flashing in the night. The clash was quickly followed by a thud as Chris's knife dug into the second man's heart before the assailant had even finished climbing over the wall.

More and more figures leaped other the balcony, ten as far as Miriam could count as she parried and attacked with her attacker, he having provided himself with a straight edged sword. Chris fought hand to hand, his many knives already thrown and lost on the bodies of three black clad men. But there were too many men, and shortly after Chris was knocked unconscious, Miriam's world turned black as the first screams erupted from the ballroom.

Water spread in all directions, slow waves altering the tranquil surface. The black bottom was not visible through the gray, algae filled water. The rhythmic beating of the waves was deliberate and silent. Without success, the small stars strived to shine, but they were shrouded by the fog that crept into the sea, its tendrils enveloping the calm and steady air. Humid particles huddled together and clouded everything from sight. Muted air emitted only the deaf sound of the waves knocking against a hard hull of oak. The fog swirled calculatingly above the gray expanse of water, hiding the world from view. A shadow became apparent in the opaque white air, slowly moving forward, propelled only by the gentle sea waves. Tendrils of mist extend through the air as they disappeared, spreading apart from each other. The magnificent vessel moved with the mist, the tendrils swirling around it, enveloping the double masts in its suffocating embrace as the canvas sails hung limp from the rigging. The Schooner glided through the fog, its bow cutting through the dense mist and placid waves knocked mutely into the oak hull. The vessel moved forward slowly as the tiniest hint of a breeze swirled through the opaque white air. And the ship was swallowed by the spinning mist, and the gray sea was once again shrouded with fog.

A/N: Well, I hope you liked it, I'll keep posting. I just love cliff hangers, don't you? Now all of you readers have a very important duty REVIEW, I'll say it again… REVIEW! Thank you.


	2. André

Author's Note: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF YOU WHO REVIEWED! Your criticism and questions are much appreciated.

Smithy: That is a good question; I tried to incorporate it in the last chapter, but without avail. Will and Elizabeth have only two kids at the moment; the 18 year old twins Miriam and Chris, I know it is kind of weird that Elizabeth is pregnant when she has two adolescent kids, but the world is an insane place.

To all of you who didn't review, go back right NOW and do so. I used to not review stories, I know it is hard to believe, but I realize now how important reviews are. These reviews make you feel like your story and you yourself are worth it, so again, the underline meaning is to READ AND REVIEW  Remember you can't have one without the other!

I disclaim that I own any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters, sniff, but of course Miriam, Chris and André (If you are asking yourself if you missed something, don't worry, he still hasn't appeared yet in the story) are of my creation. Now, without further ado, I present… (Drum roll)…Chapter 2!

Chapter II: Chains

Dark, everything was black.

Miriam groaned as she lazily opened her eyes, an ear splitting headache causing her to shut them before she had fully glimpsed the world around her. As last night's events flooded back, she forced her eyes to come open. Through her dark eyelashes, everything was black. She could feel the motion of the ship underneath her, but the memory of such a ship was forgotten to her mind. The soft waves knocked into the wood hull, swaying the boat to the motions of the sea. Hushed bumps and splashes where heard from beneath her, as the air was caught under the vessel. The soft sounds of the sea were drowned out by the low murmur of the people around her. Women and men alike sat on the damp wood, huddling together for warmth. Miriam searched the crowd for familiar faces. But her mother's smiling face and father's determined one were not to be found among the dark figures. All were young, none above the age of 20. The rattle of iron on wood was heard as Miriam's neighboring figure moved to face her. Chris's face bore memories of the fight. His short, wavy brown hair was crumpled, and his hazel eyes flamed with hatred and anger. A thin red scar adorned his left cheek. Miriam mutely reached to touch it, her hand brushing the small scar. As her hand stood in the air, she faintly noticed the thick, heavy iron chain around her left wrist. Christopher looked at her, "I obtained it during the fight; one man's knife scratched me before I blocked it."

Miriam's mouth curved into a smile, hidden in the dark, crowded room she recognized to be the storage chamber below deck, "And Ali couldn't block your knives? I sense you are out of practice, my brother."

Christopher shrugged off the comment, "It would do no good now, they have taken everything of value I had on me, my remaining knives included. They even found the one I hide behind my ear."

Miriam leaned on the wet wall behind her, the lines on her face grim, "They are slave dealers, aren't they?"

Christopher nodded in the dark, "We have sailed for a night. They awoke us before dawn; the light was bright and by the position of the stars disappearing in the sky I learned we are headed south. Only slave dealers feed us near nothing and head for the land of the conquers."

"Why the chains? We have no hope of escaping a boat. They would not fear mutiny from nobles," Miriam commented, twirling the chain around her wrist.

"Not all nobles, just the ones with muscles. They stopped before dawn to sell Rachel. She was sobbing the entire way, and the conquers would not accept her to build their cities."

"Then this crew fears mutiny…"

Christopher smiled as his sister though, "I see the gears turning, Miriam. What? Is a life of servitude building temples not to your liking?"

Miriam looked at him through the dark humid air, "My place is on the sea, not digging the dust. A crew with fear is easy to manipulate…"

The small door that lead to the deck opened, light from the bright noonday sun streaming in. The huddled slaves hid their faces at the added light, squinting their eyes into slits. A tall, muscled dark skinned man dragged down a smiling youth. The man grunted with effort. The young man was tall, parts of his long black hair braided, adorned with ethnic beads and covered in a red bandana. His crystal blue eyes pierced the darkness as his brilliant white smile directed the dark skinned man. From the crowd of sighing people, Miriam gasped as she recognized the young man who had jumped over the fire.

"Now, my dear friend, this is no way to treat a companion. I was but trying to get to the water. Most of these poor souls are dying. If the Incas are to accept them you must feed us well," the young man commented lightly as the muscled man threw him down the stairs. But his comments were unanswered. The small door creaked shut, the captive bodies straining to receive one last glimpse of sunlight. A rat-like man locked the heavy chains around the young man's wrists, adding two others around his ankles. The wood beneath Miriam creaked as the black haired youth sat beside her, his beaded hair clinking softly underneath his red bandana.

Christopher leaned over to whisper in her ear, "That's the one responsible for the chains. He was caught along with us, but before they could throw him down here, he ran away. Sneaky and clever fellow. Reminds me of someone…"

The handsome young man interrupted by noisily spreading his legs as the buzz of the voices in the room erupted once more, "Now, now, lad, it is not proper to talk of people when they do not know about the deed."

Christopher looked up, his face stone, "These chains prevent us from escaping our slave date, and I believe it is you I own the tanks to."

The young man smiled, "Sorry to hear that. I doubt you would ever escape even without the chains, however."

Only the chains restrained Chris from jumping at the young man. "I have escaped from much more than this," he hissed.

The young man inspected his fingers, "If you say so."

Miriam motioned Chris to stop, her hand resting on his shoulder. The young man missed nothing, "That you gal? Or perhaps your wife? Either way, the lass is much brighter than you."

Christopher's and Miriam's eyes locked the young man's in an angry glare. Miriam locked her jaw, "I am not his anything. He is my brother. And if you wish to speak with me, mind you do it. I am not an object to be spoken of."

The young man grinned, "Are you married or engaged?"

Miriam was taken back by the question, "None or the other…" then she snapped, "Why?"

"I was only wishing to learn more about you, servi?"

Miriam gasped as she recognized the voice, smile and looks. Quickly she buried her discovery, not knowing the full accurateness in her statement and wishing to have an advantage over this handsome and mysterious young man.

"What is it?" asked Chris, concerned.

Miriam shook her head, telling him that it was nothing. The young man leaned forward, looking at their faces, "Hey, are you two twins? If, not you can really see the family resemblance."

Miriam hid a smile in the dark, her tone cold as she spoke, "Twins. If you want more information and have knowledge of how to write, write down your questions and save us time."

The young man grinned, his white teeth flashing, "But we have all the time in the ocean! It is a long way from here to the Amazon…"

Miriam leaned over, looking into his crystal blue eyes, "Amazon? I though that we were to be sold in the Spanish holdings, not in the Amazon. The conquers are not as prominent in the Amazon."

"Not the conquers. Our expensive flesh is to be sold to the Incas. They have hidden in the Amazon, seeing as that is their natural terrain and they have more knowledge of the land. But they are constantly pushing back the conquers and their temples and houses must be built and rebuilt deeper in the rainforest. We are the needed labor to build these temples and palaces for gods we do not worship, and to die trying. The Incas have much to fear, and our lives, once we reach the lands will be taken, as they will never until our death stop us from building until our death."

Miriam and Chris looked the young man as he leaned back on the wall and closed his eyes. Chris looked into Miriam's hazel eyes and saw for the first time in his life fear. Slavery was much to fear, and slavery by the hunted Incas would be worse than the conquers.

The young man opened one eyes lazily to smile at Miriam, "What is your name? as we are destined to be companions to death, I wish to know it. I promise you on my mother that the day I die I will whisper it with my dying breath."

Miriam snorted, "How many people have you promised that to?"

His smile spread into a grin, "My father, my mother and you."

Miriam spoke sarcastically, but her word were true, "I am so honored by this tribute you have bestowed on me."

"You should be, and from now on, call me André. That is my name, if you would promise me to say it with your dying breath I would be much honored, as well."

Miriam smiled, "No such promise will come out of my lips until my mother and father have been promised so. My name is Miriam."

"Miriam…it is a sea name. Pirate father? What is your brother's name, the one that is a mirror image of you, Miriam?"

Christopher reached out to take André's hand in his, "Christopher."

André lifted himself up and looked to the door, "Here comes our food, my friends."

The soft thud of the waves was heard from underneath the vessel as the boat lulled to the motion of the sea. The dark chamber was a buzz with the voice of the youth's as they planned and plotted. Slaves were sold. These would have to be bought. Conspiracies were formed and food eaten silently as the night again covered everything is its veil. Stars peeked in the sky, weary of the ever present tendrils of fog. The vessel's bowsprit broke through the water silently and mutely as the stars pointed it south.

A/N: There it is! Slaves, pirates and ancient civilizations, what more could anyone ask for? Now, see the small rectangular box to the bottom left of this page? Click the go button and SUBMIT A REVIEW. It doesn't have to be long or lengthy, just let me know you read my story and a few comments you have. I'll answer your questions if you have any!


	3. Rebellion

A/N: You really know how to make an author feel loved! THANX SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS! I turned on my computer to find seven reviews and was so happy Thank you Smithy, mysterious-muse, Your Computer Book Buddy and Vampirehelsing!

Mysterious-muse: I am really glad that you think my fanfic is good, trust me, it is the best complement I could receive. :

Your Computer Book Buddy: Thank you for the idea. To all of those readers who don't what "servi" means, it is served in French. This is what a certain character in Pirates of the Caribbean says all the time. Looking at other fanfics I've noticed that people more commonly write it like "savvy" which I guess is what it sounds like. It is used at the end of a question like "is that enough for you?" or "are you served?" For all of you who just received enlightenment thank Your Computer Book Buddy, because even though they knew what it meant, they thought about you.

Wait! I almost forgot that unfortunately, I do not own any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters, sniff, but of course Miriam, Chris and André are products of my great imagination. Enjoy this chapter! And if you haven't reviewed the last few (the other two!) read them or you won't understand anything…aaannnndddddd…**REVIEW**! lol! Don't forget that important part of this complete story (No, it is not complete, but what I mean is that it is wholesome.)

Now, the much awaited Chapter III!

Chapter III: Rebellion

They ate their food fast, almost furtively. No food was wasted. The slimy green mold was quickly brushed off the plates and into gaping mouths eager for nourishment. After three days at sea the slave stock was reduced. Two had died of mal nourishment, three from wounds and blood loss, one from a rat bite and one from scurvy. The storage room was dark, and the time of day was lost the slaves, apart from the brief glimpses of the sun as their captors brought in the scarce food. Voices now whispered, their weakness reducing the power of their vocal cords. Chains rattled and the wind howled through the invisible holes in the wall. André leaned back on the wall; his handsome face expressionless as he set down is cleaned plate, "They are a lot more intelligent than they appeared to be."

Miriam looked over at him, her brown hair coming undone of it's elegant bun, and nodded in approval, "They starve us and let the weakest of us die of disease and maladies. By doing this they reduce the risk of mutiny and guarantee the strength of their slaves, ensuring them good prices in the market."

André flashed her a grin, "You're very clever Miriam, a least this food doesn't get to your head; it would be pity to lose you."

Miriam glared at him and looked over at Chris. The young man was shivering, his teeth shattering and his hazel eyes dull. Miriam leaned over and put a hand over his forehead. Christopher looked over at his sister, his short wavy brown hair sweaty, "Miriam, am I dying?"

Miriam removed her hand and forced a smile on her lips, "Of course not! You are a pirate, and pirates are not killed off that quickly. All you need is a few extra covers…"

She looked at herself, her emerald green dress was dirty, it was ripped at the edges and would not offer her brother much warmth. André looked over her, his face worried, "What's the matter, luv?"

Miriam turned and hissed, "Call me that again and the second I regain my sword your tongue will no longer be in your filthy mouth."

André held up his hands in surrender, his teeth flashing through his sun tanned face, "I meant no offense. I will never call you that again until you are given the chance to defend yourself against the blows of my sword, servi?"

Miriam glowered at his, then noticing that he had nothing of warmth to offer to Chris, she turned away. The slaves around her had nothing to offer. Miriam bit her lip; the second she had seen Chris's eyes glaze over she had known. After having confirmed his low fever she knew that she had to find help. Chris had _managi. _**A/N: This is not a real disease, so don't look it up. Basically it causes low fever and chills, but if untreated it can lead to death. The treatment is quite simple, kind of like a common cold, but in the conditions they (Miriam, Chris and André) are in it could probably turn deadly :) **

Beside her she could hear André's beads clicking together as he leaned over to look at Christopher. She heard his soft whistle and turned to look at him. The young man's crystals blue eyes were soft, "You need to cover him up," he whispered so Chris wouldn't hear him.

Miriam nodded worried, "None of us own anything of the sort though."

André slipped his arm around her slender shoulders, "He can't die; by the look of him it is not as serious as it can be, and if it is only the first, second day of the symptoms…"

Miriam interrupted him, "André, I do not believe this is a situation for you to slip your arm on _my_ shoulders," she said firmly and coolly.

André grinned and removed his arm, "No offense, my lady."

Miriam tugged at her dress, making sure it didn't slide down as she stood up. The ratty man that surveyed over the slaves immediately came over, "Yer out of line! Sit down lest me call him."

Miriam looked down on the man, "I demand someone provide me with two blankets or covers."

The small man squeaked and again attempted to persuade her to sit down, "Yer a slave, the chains keep ye constrained, now sit down!"

Miriam crossed her arms over her chest, "I refuse to do so unless I am provided with blankets."

The slaves around her whispered, raising the noise of the small, dark chamber to a loud buzz of voices. His hands fidgeting, the small fat man squeaked in fear and anxiety. Chris tugged on her dress, his voice low and airy among the other rising voices, "Miriam, sit down, don't do it for me, I will accept my fate…"

Miriam scoffed, "Chris, it is not for you, all you have is a small cold, nothing else. But my dress has begun to wear down and I want a blanket to cover myself and keep my warmth."

The small man emitted a strangled scream and rushed up the stairs, his hands stepping on the steps, making way for his legs and knees. The room instantly grew quiet. Everyone strained to hear what happened as the undersized man closed the door after him. The soft waves knocked into the wood hull, swaying the boat to the motions of the sea. Hushed bumps and splashes where heard from beneath her, as the air was caught under the vessel. No one spoke as the ship swayed back and forth. They heard the clatter of the man's steps on deck fade as he ran away. Voices were raised above, the clarity of the words robed by the wood between the deck and the storage chamber. Suddenly there was a squeak as the door opened once more.

A shadow grew on the floor of the slaves' quarters. The large muscled black skinned man that had caught André and brought him back to his imprisonment. Miriam trembled slightly before pulling herself together and drawing herself to her full height, her head inches from the low ceiling. The man came towards her. His chest was bear and bore the scars of many battles. His breeches where held up by a belt. A cat of nine tails and two pistols along with a cutlass hung from it, bring attention and a fearful silence from the slaves around him. His smile was obstructed by missing teeth and black rotting ones. He drew up to Miriam, his head scratching the ceiling as he was forced to bend. A foul laugh erupted from his lips, his chest heaving. Then he shot a murderous glace at the small fat man, "Are this is what yer bring me fo'? THIS! Not on'y a slave, a lowly slave but a lass?"

Miriam glared at the man, "I demand two blankets."

The muscled man turned towards her, "Shut yer mouth, wench!"

Miriam was taken back at his insult, "I demand…"

The tall muscled man's hand reached back and slapped her across the face. The force of the swing sent her into the wall behind her. Licking her lips, Miriam tasted the blood. There was a hushed silence as everyone waited to see what would happen. Chains rattled beside her as André stood up and brought her to him, his arms supporting her from falling, "I would never hit a lass, my friend," he said coolly, his blue eyes chip of ice.

The muscled man guffawed, his head rocking back. Then his eyes turned cold, "Yer insolence will be punished." In one swift motion, he took Miriam and pulled her towards him. Miriam could not fight, blood coming from her head at the shock against the wall. Chris emitted a scream of rage, but in his struggled to stand up failed as he collapsed panting from the effort. Miriam moaned slightly, her hair matted in blood and her world beginning to fade in front of her eyes.

It all happened quickly. André's legs swung underneath the man, taking his legs from under him. The muscled man swayed off balance. Taking the chance, André took Miriam from his arms, holding her upright in his arms. Then, seeing the dark skin man rush up the stairs and lock the door behind him sat down, leaning Miriam against the wall.

Chris moved over, his body shivering as he shook Miriam's shoulder. A muffled moan of pain escaped her open lips, but her eyes remained closed. Chris looked over at André, "Thank you. She is stubborn and rebellious, and it sometimes gets her into trouble."

André smiled his welcome as he gently took Miriam's head in his hands and inspected the wound at the back of her head. After a while he turned to Chris, "It was not so serious. She lost some blood, which would account for her dizziness, but otherwise, the blood has already clotted and it will be just a matter of rest."

Chris nodded his thanks and leaned back the wall, his knees coming up to his face as he tried to warm up in vain. Miriam's body rose and fell in her slow breathing as the motion of the ship swayed her into slumber. André leaned back. His eyes expressionless as he thought. Chris needed out, and Miriam would get herself killed. They needed escape.

A/N: There you go! Wow, I posted three days in a row! Don't expect me to be this good all through the story, but then again… maybe if there are enough reviews REVIEW! Tell me what you think and your ideas about how I could make it more interesting. Sorry this chapter was so short; the next one will be longer. REVIEW! Tell me about your questions and comments! I DO care! Really, trust me


	4. Conspiracy

A/N: THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING. I will now thank each individually, YOU DESERVE IT!

LaxGoalie: Thanks so much for all the reviews! I did put you on my favorite list, it probably still didn't load however, it does kind of suck that this website loads things so slowly. Anyways, yes André is perfect, I made sure that he was that way because he is based on the character of André Marek in Timeline (he is sooo handsome!). To answer your questions, no Will and Elizabeth are not very in this story, but that is because I want it that way. The twins having a bigger role/destiny…not going to answer lol! The twins are both 18 years old.

BlackRose8291: blushes aww, you are so nice to put me on your favorite stories list, I feel so honored and accomplished as an author! André looks like Jack…hm…hehe, might find out a little about that in this Chapter! By the way, Miriam is an awesome name; it means the sea in Celtic or something.

EternalHope08: I LOVE YOUR STORY! Just thought I'd tell you again Thank you so much for reviewing, it makes me feel ver loved, I know that you know what I feel. The cannibals were cast out for the Incas unfortunately, but they might come in…hehe. About your question…might want to read this chapter!

AquariusClarinetus: Thanks for reviewing! I sent a review to your Raven's Secret but it didn't pass, kind of weird, I'll tell you what I was going to say in it in CBA.

Now, I present my Chapter 4(for those of you who have problems with roman numerals) and remember that I don't owns any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters, but Miriam…well, you get my point. READ and REVIEW!

**Chapter IV: Conspiracy**

Chris fell just before dawn. His breathing had become labored and he still hadn't opened his eyes since they last closed to cover his eyes. The slaves moved away from him, their fear his death and possible transmission keeping them from helping. Their soft whispering filled the room with eerie wind as their chains of enslavement rattled. Miriam had done everything she could to wake Chris up; she had yelled, nudged and kicked him but to no avail. She had regained her strength since the incident yesterday, much do to André's help. The young man knew more than he cared to say about healing, even though he could do nothing for Chris's condition. Miriam was distraught. The thought of losing her much loved brother kept her hazel eyes full of tears on his unconscious form. They were twins. Chris had been born seconds before Miriam, and they were twins. An invisible link bonded them together, and the pain Chris felt as the illness drained him of his strength was also felt acutely by Miriam.

They had learned everything together. At the age of two, both had been sent to school, much to their mother's insistence than their father's. There they learned geography, protocol, math and science. The teachers were insistent, saying that their mother, Elizabeth, had been a great student and they must live up to it. Miriam excelled in everything but protocol. Chris on the other hand was more of a memory learner. He mastered geography and protocol quickly, but rushed to Miriam for help with his formulas. However, it was their father's teaching that had turned them into who they were today. Will Turner was a pirate, but due to the Commodore's great generosity, awarded the title of privateer. He sailed the seas on his boat, _The Wind_. Miriam and Chris had wanted nothing more but to sail forever after their first ride through the waves. Elizabeth wasn't much for boats. Her childhood had been full of them; all she wanted to do now was to raise her family. Will and Elizabeth's love for each other had made it possible for the trade off. Will would sail for two months with one twin, while the other stayed in Port Royal with her mother, and then stay two months in Port Royal before taking off again, this time with the other twin. It was on board the boat that Miriam and Chris learned. Miriam was quick with the staff, after having learned everything she could she used her skills with her curved sword, making her an admirable fighter. Chris, on the other hand, preferred the knives. He would keep ten on him at all times. His aim and throw were both deadly if confronted. Recently he had taken to practice catching the knives, to avoid injuries from other fighters and improve his speed. They grew up together and never left the other's side.

Chris lay beside Miriam, his breathing labored. She felt his pain, fear and shivers, as the cold, wet air settled on his skin. Chris moaned in his troubled sleep, sending Miriam to his side eagerly, her chains rattling on the wood floor. Her hazel eyes searched him, then seeing he was not awake, she leaned back on the wood behind her. She feared for his life, she feared for herself after his death. Suddenly, Miriam started frantically ripping ribbons of fabric from the frayed bottom of her dress. Her hands were ripping the pieces quickly, her hair undone from its elegant bun, and setting them like a blanket on Chris's unconscious body. She felt as strong hands took hold of hers by the wrist and brought them away from her dress, forcing her to stop her madness. Miriam tried ripping her hands from her capturer, but to no avail. Miriam turned to look at André, her hazel eyes wild, "Let me go! I must keep him warm, he's going to …"

André kept a firm grip on her hands, his eyes expressionless, "No, Miriam."

Miriam struggled, but the young man was too strong for her weakened body and she collapsed, sobbing. The slaves around were oblivious, some asleep while other's whispered softly. Tear ran down Miriam's face silently, leaving clean lines through the dirt on her smooth, sun tanned cheeks. André, seeing she was over her attack, gently let go of her wrists, placing her hands in her lap. His blue eyes showed concern through his coal black hair. Looking through one of his pockets, he brought out a small white handkerchief and offered it to her.

Miriam didn't hesitate as took it out of his hands and wiped her face. After having cleared her eyes with the white piece of linen, she set it on Chris, wiping his face and hair of the feverous sweat. André made no move to stop her, his legs crossed underneath him. Miriam stared crying again; her brother's breathing was no longer as strong and his fever had increased. Her brown wavy hair around her face was wet with her tears. André reached over to her and put his hand gently on her heaving shoulder. Without warning, Miriam reached around and slapped his hand off. Her eyes flashed with anger, burying the pain deep inside her, "You have no right to touch me. Do you not know that I am of the nobility? You are but a low slave, his boat is where you belong to be. If you hadn't escaped that first day, we wouldn't have been put in chains. I would have quickly found the means of escaping without chains and my brother wouldn't be dying! It is your fault! You are no different from your father!"

Miriam shut her mouth instantly, knowing she had gone too far. She had revealed the knowledge she had wished to keep fro blackmail. Even though, her stubborn face showed no sign of her fear.

André didn't move his eyes remained on her, his face impassive. Casually, Miriam saw him bring up his hand and inspect the small tattoo on his hand; it appeared to be of Indian origin. Through the coal black hair, braids and bone colored beads, Miriam saw his face harden and his eyes turn cold. The young man brought his head up, leaning on the wood behind him and stretching his legs in front of him. Then, after a few minutes, he turned his once more inexpressive face to Miriam, "How long have you known?"

Miriam turned her cold glare on him, "Ever since I saw you smile."

André grinned at this comment, his smile so like his father's breaking through the dark, "How charming."

Miriam didn't smile, "You are a pirate, and if my brother dies, I will hunt you down and kill you."

André's eyes were smiling once again, "Now, luv, that gives me a reason to live, doesn't it not?"

Only the chains kept Miriam from throwing herself at André. She screamed in rage and hissed, "You promised me never to call me that again, until I could fight back with my sword!"

André furrowed his brow, and then snapped his fingers remembering, "I did!"

Miriam said nothing.

André turned his face to Miriam's and his eyes softened, "I am very sorry, Miriam, I am afraid I will have to punish myself for that."

Miriam appeared confused as André stood up, his tall, strong body casting a shadow over her. After stretching briefly, he called over the ratty man that supervised over the slaves, "I have a favor to ask of your companion."

The ratty man scurried over to him, André towering above him, "Yer one of them two slaves. I'll call him! I will. Aye, he'll give ye a beating if I call 'im!"

André smiled, the beads of his coal black hair clicking softly. Then he threw his head back and laughed, a hearty laugh that lifted the gloom from the room, all the slaves feeling like free men and women once more, "That is my reason! I have offended this lady and wished him to bring down the cat of nine tails. I must punish myself for what I did."

Miriam's heart froze. The cat of nine tails was a horrible whip. It was a stick of wood, nine pieces of rope to whip with hanging from one end. Though the pain was already unbearable with just the nine whips, some ships added weights on the ends, allowing for deeper wounds and more sting. She looked up to André. His face was turned away from her, but his voice never wavered as he told his wish to the ratty man. She had never meant him to punish himself! She couldn't stand seeing someone do that to him, his dignity and carelessness robbed of him. Quickly gathering her skirts about her, she rose, wrapping her hands around one of André's arms. André turned to look at her, him crystal blue eyes soft and gentle as he smiled at her. Miriam felt the side of her lips curving into a smile to match his. "There is no need for the punishment," she told the ratty man, "He…didn't offend me."

The small man wobbled away, shaking his head and squeaking to himself so no one would hear. Miriam quickly sat down and turned her attention on Chris to avoid André. But Chris was still sleeping and when André spoke up, she had no excuse not to turn and answer.

"I didn't offend you, my lady?" he asked, his white teeth flashing.

Miriam didn't look at him, "You knew I was afraid of the cat of nine tails, didn't you?'

"Aye, I did."

Miriam looked up, her hazel eyes intense, "Why, then?"

André looked her over, his eyes considering, "I wanted to show you that I am trustworthy, but I had no desire to punish myself at all."

"It was fake then."

The young man shook his finger, "No. It wasn't. I do not lie, and I always keep my promises. That time it must have slipped. When we get on dry land, however, I will find you a sword and we will fight."

Miriam nodded, finally agreeing, "Do you know who I am, André Sparrow?"

"No, unfortunately I am not as good as a guesser as you are. But I do believe you have met my father?"

"Once, when I was a child. He is good friends with my parents. In fact, my parents owe him their wedding and love. But he disappeared and never visited us after Chris and mine's 5th birthday," She turned to André, realizing something, "You weren't there. You should have been. How old are you?"

"Twenty, give or take a year. My mother and father weren't ones for dates."

Miriam cocked her head to one side, "In fact, I never knew Jack Sparrow even had a wife."

André turned angry eyes on her, "He didn't."

The young woman moved closer to Chris, the expression of hate and anger on André's face frightening, "I'm sorry."

André shook his head and smiled, "It is not your fault. My father didn't want the attachment and ties; he enjoyed his freedom too much. A first, he was happy. I was his son and he wanted to teach me everything he knew, I was his joy in life. I was a quick learner, and learned everything he taught me. Unfortunately, things fell out between my mother and him. The infamous pirate then began to look at me like his rival to the pirate throne. At the age of 5, my mother got us off the boat. But after having had that much freedom, I couldn't live with her and her suitors. I escaped her shortly after and fled to sea. Pythagoras, and old man I met on one of my voyages became my tutor and I learned math, science and all I would ever need to know. He was killed by my father in a fight. I gave my father a scar on his arm for it and my father has been chasing me, his rival and only child, across the oceans ever since."

"How were you caught?" Miriam asked, thinking about the young man that had jumped over the flames in Port Royal. **(A/N: For those of you that are confused, reread chapter I)**

"I had been working aboard a ship called _The Wind_, captained by Captain Turner…" André stopped in mid sentence and looked over at Miriam, him eyes inspecting her. Then he passed on to Chris and having just cast a small glance towards him smiled. He turned his smiling face towards Miriam, "Ms. Miriam Turner I presume?"

Miriam looked down at her feet and nodded. André's laugh rang out clear in the dark room. Miriam looked over at him, "Do you find it funny? I suggest you not laugh at me, for while my past may be funny, yours is quite a story…"

André turned to look at her, his black hair under his blue bandana overshadowed by his white smile, "I am not laughing at you, Miriam, but I just laugh in realization."

Miriam frowned.

"You see, the crew constantly told me that Captain Turner had a daughter, and that I had just missed seeing her by a month. I now remember your brother on deck, but with his hair cut it is hard to recognize him. Ali, a strong dark skinned man, told me about your amazing and promising skills with the curved blade and double ended staff. The others told me stories of your great beauty, comparing you to a goddess. I see now that they were not wrong."

Miriam blushed crimson at this comment and immediately busied herself pretending to mop Chris's head and check for his fever. She saw André grin briefly before crossing his arms behind his head and closing both eyes. Miriam sighed and faced forward once more; her brother had yet to wake up. His time was running out, and as the illness engulfed him she felt the pain that tore through his body. She didn't notice the stray tear that ran down her cheek.

André looked over Chris, whistling softly as he saw his pale cheeks, closed eyes and wet hair. Miriam stopped mopping her brother's head for a moment and turned to face André. "What, now?" she asked, her eyes tired.

The young man held her eyes in his own bright blue ones, "He's dying."

Miriam threw the handkerchief on the floor in frustration, "Do you think I don't know that!"

The beads clicked together as he shook his head. Miriam collapsed, the bags under her eyes dark against her sun tanned skin. She closed her eyes only for a second before returning to mopping Chris's head, all the while nudging him, hoping to wake him from his troubled slumber. André clicked his tongue in reprimand behind her. Miriam breathed out and once more turned to look at André, "Now, what?"

His face showed concern as he gently touched her face, his fingers outlining the bags under her hazel eyes, "Why are you doing this to yourself, Miriam? There is nothing you can do for him; _managi_ has claimed him. It is up to your brother to fight the illness; you cannot do it for him. Now, if it was me, I would understand your concern," André grinned, drawing back his hand. Miriam rolled her eyes at his last comment, "But you must keep yourself alive before all others. It is only with strength that Chris will live."

Miriam saw the reason behind it and agreed wholeheartedly, but she couldn't help her actions. Chris's breathing was loud and his body heat gave off amazing warmth. His presence was established beside her and she couldn't ignore him. His fear and pain jolted through her blood, and she did it as much for herself as for him.

Suddenly she turned to André, who had again closed him eyes. She nudged him, her brown hair loose around her face, "André!"

He opened one eye lazily, his face inquiring her reason to bother him.

'I have an idea. If you wish to listen do so, if not don't ever betray me for what I am about to say."

He jumped awake, crossing his legs underneath him and looking at Miriam eagerly. His blue eyes were alert, but he made up for his enthusiasm by casually pulling a small harmonica from his pocket. He did not play it but inspected it, his fingers and hands running over the smooth surface of the wooded pipes, "Aye, I want to hear your idea…and whatever would make you think I would betray you?"

Miriam waved her hand, dismissing the last question, "If I do not say it all now I will forget, so listen carefully. Do you have experience with escaping?"

André put his harmonica in his pocket, his face breaking into a grin at her last word, "Aye. I've done it a couple times. My father is quite a persistent man and I found myself twice in the brig of his ship."

Miriam's eyes sparkled, "I will need your help…"

Her voice faded, the waves lapping at the sides of the boat drowning out her whisper. The slaves around her united their voices and whispers with hers, forming a buzz of low voices. Their dark room was constantly echoing with the noise of the footsteps of the crew as their destination came closer within reach. The slave dealers slacked on security and relaxed, drinking and missing guard duty. As the boat's bowsprit faced to the south, the outline of land still not visible in the horizon, the whispering of the slaves grew treacherous and mutinous. Mutiny and escape were becoming possible.

**A/N: You see, that was definitely longer than the last chapter. Now, I notice that you have slacking off on reviewing, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! I understand that it is Memorial Day weekend and many people are out for the weekend, but I stayed home writing, so those of you that did stay home REVIEW! Tell me if you like it and what way do you think I should go with this. I promise you action in the next chapter…or not…or maybe even capture…maybe a death would be more stirring. lol :) REVIEW, please. If you review, I will listen to your comments and answer any questions you have at the Author's Note at the beginning of the next chapter. Now, what is your homework? REVIEW! It doesn't have to be long, just to keep me going. Let's say we push the reviews up to 18, 19 or 20? Can you do that:)**


	5. The Slave Market

**A/N: Okay! Here it is, after such a long period without reviewing…CHAPTER V! I have noticed that instead of the four reviews I normally get for each chapter I have only gotten two, THANK YOU SMITHY AND ETERNALHOPE08! To all of those that read my story and don't review, shame on you! I mean, all it takes is two clicks and a short comment like, "I love your story, keep writing" :) **

**Anyways, I have been thinking of changing the rating of this fanfiction. Tell me what you think, in your reviews! But if the rating gets changed whatever other ages this rating doesn't allow, that wouldn't affect you, please, feel free to read my story…BUT, you must review. With privileges come responsibilities…lol:)**

**Smithy: Thank you for your compassion towards Chris. I am glad that someone understood what I was trying to say in the last chapter, when all Miriam did was cry! Thank you for being such a loyal reviewer and keep it up!**

**Eternalhope08: Don't worry, you're not alone staying home over memorial weekend. All my friends stayed and reviewed for finals! By the way, what does MIA mean? Probably I am know what it is and will realize it the second you tell me, I'm just cool like that :) Anyways, KEEP WRITING YOUR STORY! I really like how you write, and your story is incredibly addicting! Enjoy this chapter and thanks for being such a great author and consistent reviewer!**

**Now, I give you…**

Chapter V: The Slave Market

"Land Ho!"

The call sounded from above. It was muffled as the waves of sound traveled through the hard wood door and walls that kept the slaves inside their prison of darkness. There was a rattle of chains as the young men and women moved, their unaccustomed ears straining to make sense of the sound.

"Land Ho!"

The slaves looked up, their eyes glittering in the darkness. Emotions ran through the chamber. The excitement of their release from the brig was tangible. Whispers broke out where few seconds before there had been no sound. The doors will open, we will see light, they said. The chains scraped the floor as the movements became quicker. Our faces will absorb the light, we will see the colors once again, the rising voices cried.

"Land Ho!"

Silence descended on the chamber, swallowing the hopes and excitement. This boat was a slave ship. Land would not be freedom. It would be the start of their slave lives, the start of their life imprisonment. The young men and women standing sat down, receding into the corners of their areas, huddling together, wishing what they would have thought impossible: no land. On land they would be bargained for and sold to the Incas. On land their free lives would end.

Miriam watched the slaves react as the cry for land was heard, her hazel eyes expressionless. Her beautiful wavy brown hair was done in a simple braid behind her back. Their week aboard the boat was ending, but it brought only dread. Miriam was however thankful to be rid of the ship, its brig, crew and food. Three more had died that night; the thought still brought tears to her eyes. It saddened her that they had died so near the end, yet in a way, before the beginning. The boards of wood creaked underneath her as André stirred awake from his sleep. He yawed as he starched his arms and legs. His eyelids opened lazily, revealing his bright blue eyes, "Good morning, Miriam."

Miriam looked at him, "We have reached land."

André immediately shook the remaining sleep off his body, the ethnic beads clicking softly under his blue bandana, "Too quick."

"I don't understand. You can hardly have expected us to take more of a week to reach the Amazon from Port Royal," Miriam commented.

His smile broke through the darkness, "On a ship loaded with slaves? You are right, clever Miriam," His face turned grave, "What of your brother?"

Miriam swallowed her tears as she looked over at Chris. His face was ashen and he had been asleep for two days now. She felt André's sympathy and concern flood to her through the air and turned to look at him, "What will they do?"

André put his big warm hand on top of hers, his blue eyes soft, "In a slave market you can sell any slave."

"I don't want to be separated from him," she felt her bottom lip quiver, "Who would buy him?"

André stopped to think only for a second, "A doctor. They would cure him and then use him as an assistant."

The door slammed open and the dark skinned, muscular man descended down the stairs grinning. The cat of nine tails, its bullet ends to increase the pain suffered, hung from the belt on his waist. The man's shadow covered the morning light that shone down the stairs. Miriam could see various muscular men behind him; they were going to take them to land. The man stopped and looked around at the feeble forms of the slaves once he found himself situated in the middle of the chamber.

"Ye're to be sold now," he told them, his voice booming across the room. He turned his face to the ratty man and nodded. The small man scurried around and removed the chains from the slaves, instead installing new ones that connected them to each other. He was almost done when he reached Chris, after having poked him various times, the small man turned to the man in the middle, "Rabid, this man isn't dead, but he ain't live either."

Miriam instantly stood up, the chain that connected her to André restraining her from starching to her full height, "Please, he is a little sick, nothing else. He is sleeping and will come to in a while. I will carry him where we need to go…"

Rabid cut off Miriam by backhanding her across her face, her cheek becoming bright red, "If he can't work he is not to be sold. Kill him."

Miriam screamed and threw herself onto of Chris, her eyes wild. The ratty man came forward with his dagger, only to have it slapped away. The small dagger skittered on the wood to land at the other side of the room. Rabid started to advance only to be faced by André, "Let the man live, if it pleases the lady. Everyone gets sold on the slave market, he would just have few disadvantages, but making some money is better than making none."

Miriam looked up from her position on Chris. Her hair had fallen out of her braid and she looked at André thankfully.

Rabid ran his callused fingers down the blade of his dagger, analyzing the situation. The girl and the young pirate in front of him were his two strongest slaves; the dying young man didn't matter. Yet he knew that to kill the young man he would have to kill the lass. The lass's death, not only would cost him one of his best slaves and bargaining tools, but chances were that the young pirate would kill himself as well with her dead. The dark skinned man knew that however convenient it was to kill the dying young man, it would cost him his two best slaves. That was a price he could not afford. His mouth was grim as he shouted out the order, "The young man is to be tied with the rest." His flaming eyes looked at Miriam, "If he slows us down or falls, even 'f only on'e, he'll be killed."

Miriam let out a sigh of relief, the muscles in her body released from the tension. She moved over, her arms and shoulders trembling from the adrenaline rush she had received. Her brother was alive, and he would live. André leaned over, his young handsome face grinning, "You owe me one Miriam."

Miriam looked him over and glared, "Only a small thank you. I could have held them at bay. They would have never been able to kill Chris."

The ethnic beads in his hair clicked together, "Ah! But there is were you are wrong, my l.." André stopped himself.

Miriam looked at him, daggers in her eyes, "You said it."

André held up his hands in defense, "Correction: I stopped myself before I said it. The most I said was the first letter. How do you know I wasn't saying something else?"

Miriam opened her mouth, but before she could reply there was a bone breaking tug on the chain, forcing her to her feet beside André. Her left hand hung to the ground, Chris dead weight pushing her down. Quickly remembering Rabid's words with a glace from the tall, muscular dark skinned man, she picked up Chris. He was too heavy. Her weak body struggled with the young man's weight his feet dragging on the floor. Miriam wheezed from underneath him as he squeezed the air out of her lungs and pushed her to the ground. She felt as two strong arms lifted the weight off of her, letting her breath. Through her messed hair she saw André lift Chris over his shoulder and begin walking up the steps, his chain forcing her to stand up and follow him, only to be stopped by Rabid.

"Where 're ye takin' this here man? It was the lass's work, not yers."

André looked at him, his eyes cold like ice, "She's is weak from the blood she lost because of your mistreatment of her. I will carry him or die trying."

Miriam glared at Rabid and turned to André, her face inches from his because of the chain, "Give him to me, André."

André grinned as he shook his head, "Sorry Miriam, but I cannot let you die; my captain would be very upset with me."

Rabid regarded this exchange, his eyes tortured from thinking the situation over. "Get up the stairs ye slaves!" He hollered out suddenly, as if the conversation between them had never occurred.

André needed no more urging as he charged up the stairs, joining the slaves on deck. Miriam stumbled after him, bumping into him.

Sun basked the warm tropical air and sounds brighter than any of them could remember floated through the air. The vessel was docked at a small beach, yet the size of the beach did nothing to keep the boats away.

Everyone's face tilted towards the sun, basking in the warm light. The scene in front tittered with the cries of tropical birds. Trees reached towards the heavens, the forest's canopy shaking and moving with wildlife. Red, green, purple and blue birds flashed on the upper branches of the majestic trees. Brown and gold rustled in the bushes. The shallow lagoon's crystal blue water sparkled, matching the color of André's bright eyes. Schools of fish swam around the vessel, poking and nipping at the sides, their curiosity unrestrained. But the feeling that surrounded and engulfed the magnificent beach was not one to compare. Lines of men and women marred the landscape. Their chains rattled in the wet, humid air as the buyers inspected them. The pirates, mercenaries, generals and savages circled the slaves, their eyes dark like a jaguar when it was picking out its prey. The humid air was filled with the cruelty of the salve market and the haunting of a fault for human rights.

The chains pulled on Miriam's slight wrists, yanking her forward and propelling her onto the small raft as she left her slave ship forever. There was an odd triumph as the slaves saw the ship getting retreating behind them, one that only those hunted feel. Waves lapped at the sides of the rafts, but the bright blue water was only seen as the last surrender. The long line of slaves trudged on, their feet heavy on the white sand as they stepped off the wooden raft. Once during the march up to beach to the edge of the forest, a young woman fell, her eyes blank with death. She had been quickly cut from the chain line and left on the beach, her body given to the carrion birds. They finally reached stopped, Rabid setting them up in a line by the forest, away from the other dealers and buyers. Miriam felt the strain on her chains as André set down Chris on the soft white sand.

"You're trembling, Miriam," murmured André, barely heard over the loud noise of the market.

Miriam folded her arms behind her back and tried not to stutter as she spoke, "I am not. You are seeing things; the sun must have gotten to you."

André did not move, his blue eyes intent on the forest in front of them, "There is no need to hide your fear. No one but slave dealers and buyers stay still at the mention of the slave market."

Miriam had no strength to glare at him. "Then why aren't you trembling, pirate? Already had a career as a dealer? Or maybe, perhaps a buyer?" she snapped.

"This is not the first time I have been sold as a slave," was all he answered, his eyes not leaving the forest.

Miriam cut off her last comment and instead turned her sad eyes to the tropical jungle.

They came out of nowhere. One second the forest was humming with the cry of the tropical birds and the next, the brightly colored Incas stood before the startled slaves. The market continued, no one noticing the arrival of the two lords and their warriors. Their demure was commanding and silent. Even when all the twenty men moved at the same time, no noise was emitted. The two lords had a royal aura. Their piercing black eyes inspected the slaves one by one down their strong straight noses. Miriam could tell that both men were not pleased. They had expected much more than the dying and starving young men and women who stood before them, not even able to keep a straight line. The two men looked at each other and frowned. It would not do at all. They began to pace up and down the line, their eyes intense. Rabid came up to them and bowed, the two Incas looking at him in slight disgust.

"My lords, it is my pleasure to make business with you. This is your latest order."

One of the men stepped forward, him red cape swishing in the air, "This will not do at all. My lord ordered twenty fit young men and women able to carry stones. These," he waved his hand at the slaves, "do not fit the requirements and are not worth the price my lord has put to them."

Rabid stood up from his bow, his hard face angry, "They are but the strongest of the crop, my lord. Some are nobles and others peasants but all were chosen for their strength."

The other Inca with a green cape walked slowly up the ranks and came to stop in front of André, Chris and Miriam.

"Strongest you say? This man on the floor is dead or very near it. He is not worth any price. As far as I can see, your strongest slaves are theses two," he motioned at André and Miriam, "The male slave is strong and in good condition, he hardly seems affected by your mal treatment. As for the girl, she is very beautiful and seems in good condition, strong and healthy."

Miriam seemed shock at the man's analysis of her. She was dimly aware of André slipping his hand into hers. The Inca man with the red cape nodded slowly, "Lord Urcon speaks true. The female could carry children, and the man is strong enough to carry stones for about two years before exhaustion."

Miriam gasped at the man's comment and immediately stepped forward. André was quicker, though, and he pulled her behind him as he opened his mouth to speak, "Lords, I am sorry to inform you, but the lady is not fit to carry any children."

Lord Urcon turned to look at André, his face considering. After a moments pause he smiled, his teeth glinting in the light, "You married to this girl, boy?"

It took all of André's strength to restrain Miriam from first attacking Urcon and then him, "No, my lord."

Urcon arranged a gold ring on his index finger, "She will be used to whatever means we feel she can be used to her full potential, if that does not please you it matters not. You will carry stones the rest of your days and you will soon find that an insignificant slave girl is often forgotten."

André looked back at Miriam, his blue eyes soft and pained. Miriam glared at him, her hazel eyes radiating with flames of anger. Then, slowly, he turned back to Urcon, his voice ice cold, "Then I will kill you."

The two Inca lords turned to stare at him, their faces first astonished and then spreading into grins. Urcon came forward, his laughter cold, and his smile did not reach his eyes, "You are a stubborn slave. I shall enjoy seeing you die under the rocks. Yet, there is something that I like about you, and since you seem to be attached to this girl so much, I will give her to you. That is, if my lord Acahuana agrees…"

Acahuana looked from Miriam to André and nodded, "Yes, I agree, my lord. But the children produced must go to the mines."

André looked from one lord to the next, his eyes searching for any sign of deceit. Satisfied, he addressed himself to Acahuana and bowed, "I agree to your terms, my lord."

The two Inca leaders smiled and motioned Rabid to come forward, "These two will be bought at full price, but that man on the floor is not to be bought."

Miriam suddenly cried out, hearing their decree about Chris, "My lords! Please! This man is my twin brother; I can't live without him!"

Acahuana shook his head, "He is not to come with us. As for you, slave girl, you have already caused enough problems. You will be punished on our arrival, speak again and you shall die."

Miriam fought the impulse to scream, but the Inca's eyes were cold, and she knew that he had meant to follow with his punishment if she spoke again. Her heart broke under the pain of parting from Chris, but dared not speak, fearing for her death. She felt a coward and a bad sister, but she must live, the sole need to survive pushed her, as it pushes all organisms. Acahuana noticed as a lone tear raced down the young woman's cheek. He sighed and turned to Urcon. "Buy the boy, my brother, it will make no difference to the price, as we will buy the rest of the slaves at half price," he said, so no one could hear.

Urcon turned an angry glare on his brother, "Don't be soft, Acahuana. The boy will die and he will be but a burden."

"No, Capac may have some use for him. Last I saw him he was discussing a plan for the treatment of an illness. It will please him to have a patient."

Urcon frowned, "Kill the boy now. The girl has been granted too many favors. It is not good to do that to a meager slave."

Acahuana's face turned cold, his voice commanding, "I am the older brother, Urcon, and we shall do as I see fit. Buy the stubborn slave and girl at full price, the rest of the group at half and the dying boy at on eight of the price. We must be leaving and I am weary, do it and let's be gone. I will go warn the camp to pack and depart."

Acahuana left into the forest, taking half the guards with him. The bushes around the Inca's emitted no sound as they passed through, the hot humid air absorbing the cries of the tropical birds. Urcon settled the money with Rabid. It was quickly done, as the muscular black man acknowledged the lack of performance in the slaves. As Urcon was about to pay he turned and looked into the depths of the jungle and smiled.

"We will not buy the dying boy," he told Rabid.

Rabid nodded, defeated by the commanding Inca, "Yes, my lord."

Urcon, pleased with this leaned forward to whisper something in the dark skinned man's ear. Rabid smiled at his and nodded, his face in an ugly grin, "It will be done my lord."

"Good, now give me the keys to the chains and take out the boy, we will be leaving now."

Chris was slumped against a pile of unused chains as the slaves where pushed forward into the jungle by Urcon's soldiers. Miriam's feet gave out from under her as sobs shook her fragile body. André helped her up slowly and leaned her against him, supporting her weight. "Chris," Miriam whispered, losing him from sight as the ferns and trees of the Amazon jungle swallowed her.

**A/N: I know that it is short, but hey! I had finals all week and I had to study, sorry I couldn't update sooner. I promise to be quicker on the next update, BUT, I want at least four reviews for this chapter to update. :) Tell me what you think and how I could make it better, I like criticism, in fact, I couldn't live without it! Hope you killed this chapter!**


	6. Inca Trail

**A/N: SUMMER IS HERE! On top of that great news, I am the happiest person on earth, because I got 6…let me say that again…SIX reviews for my fifth chapter! THANK YOU SOOOOOOOO MUCH! You guys are great!**

**DarkoBender: Yes, I am aware of my mistake. Truthfully, I first gave him a red bandana because it was the color bandana that Jack wore, and I wanted everyone to know that André is the Xerox copy of Jack, you know, to prove that he is Jack's son. But then I noticed that the red didn't match with his blue eyes, so, I changed it to blue and was too lazy to reload the chapter with the changed bandana color. Sorry, but thanks for your review and for noticing:)**

**Smithy: That is a good suggestion. It is true that worried parents always make a situation more stressful and real, in a way. Well, worried parents…an Elizabeth that is due really soon…a privateer Will…um… :) Maybe even an angry Jack! Since I already had this chapter half written I couldn't include them in here…but expect that soon!**

**Neenie: YAY! NEW REVIEWER! I am so glad that you are enjoying my story, that means a lot to me, the crazy writer :) Will and Elizabeth? Thank you to Smithy's suggestion you might see them soon enough…and Chris you ask? evil smile what could Urcon have done with him? Is he dead or alive? I am spilling no secrets there…continue reading to find out!**

**AquariusClarinetus: What André was going to say that Miriam didn't want him to is 'luv', you know, Jack says it all the time and André seems to have the same habit, but Miriam doesn't like it. Let's say that she just really values her freedom and doesn't enjoy being called something possessive :)**

**Mysterious-muse: Yeah, I know what it is like to have issues with your computer… makes me very mad! Anyways, thanks so much for reviewing, and I want to admit that when you showered me with compliments of loving chapter 4 and 5 I blushed… :) Thank you for your review!**

**Vampirehelsing: Awwww, you love my story! Thank you! You are a great reviewer! I was reading your profile and noticed that you play clarinet! I do too, well…I have been playing it for 3 years in band class, but I am not that great :) Your stories are really great! Keep writing and reviewing!**

**Now, I give you…(drum roll)….**

**Chapter VI: Inca trail**

The jungle sped past the rapid canoes, as the slave convoy voyaged down into the South American continent. Parrots and toucans flew in the air, and the cautious eyes of the leopard followed them. Trees leaned into the wide Amazon River, their aging trunks covered in moss and vines. Beautiful orchids colored the humid air, their sweet fragrance invading the senses. The murky water of the river cooled the warm air as it swam by the long canoes. Fish were visible beneath the surface, and a large green dolphin was once spotted near the bank of the river. Animals leaned on the side to drink, quietly observing the passage of the boats.

André shoved a plate of food into Miriam's hands and leaned her gently on a bulk of bags behind her. His bright blue eyes were full of concern; she had fallen into a trance shortly after she was taken away from her brother. Miriam had not spoken since the parting; instead her glazed eyes wandered the murky waters and colorful forest canopy. André had not pressed her. He understood her pain and left her to her silent mourning. Over the last 10 days that they had sped down the river at amazing speed he had taken care of her. When the Inca guards gave them their food he would take it to her, and made her eat it in her spell.

Their captivity with the Incas varied greatly from their captivity on the vessel. Acahuana and Urcon argued endlessly on anything, ranging from birds to politics and the Spanish invaders, but the conditions of like were a lot better. The food included fish and fruit, a well balanced diet the slaves hadn't seen in their overall two weeks on the ship. Acahuana, as the slaves quickly discovered, was a lot more humane and considerate than his cruel brother. Under his command, the guards had freed the slaves from their chains as soon as the long canoes were reached. Urcon had protested, but Acahuana had been firm and established that he was in command. His leadership was wise and the captive men and women respected him, Urcon's views of slave rebellion were unlikely with such a kind master. Most of the young men and women were gathering their strength, and there had been no deaths since they had been bought.

Small ants scurried across a dead tree on the bank, carrying pieces of green leaves on their backs. Miriam's glazed eyes dimly registered as a blue and green humming bird landed on a purple orchid, its long beak extending into the flower. Her rich brown hair cascaded down her shoulders as she turned her face to gaze blankly down at the food in front of her.

"Eat," André said softly, pushing the plate towards her. Miriam looked up at his face vacantly and pushed the plate of food away. André froze at the expression in her eyes. He had seen it before. It was the expression of the dead and dying. Abruptly he shook her, his beaded hair clicking, "Five days is enough, Miriam. Chris is gone and you will never see him again. Live, it is the only way you can survive."

At the mention of Chris's name Miriam turned, her hazel eyes reborn. André smiled at the change, the fear on his face disappearing. Miriam looked around, taking in her surroundings. She saw the water run past the log canoe, she heard the howler monkeys in the canopy and smelled the red orchid flowers in the breeze. Finally her eyes came to rest on André.

He had only seconds to react. The fire in Miriam's hazel eyes his only warning. André stopped her fist centimeters before if reached his face, his fingers tight around her wrist.

"Live you say? Live? You have condemned me!" she cried out, lashing out with her other hand, André caught it easily.

"Miriam!" he started.

Miriam cried out in frustration at her failed attack, "Let me go! Without Christ I cannot live! You have taken me and left Chris behind. It is your fault. I hate you!" she struggled to release her hand from André's but failed. Giving up, she collapsed sobbing, her body shaking.

"I know it is hard Miriam. You have lost your closest friend, but you can live. Life will be hard with the Incas, but I will protect you."

"Protect me? What about your deal with the Incas? Is that considered protection?" she snapped, her eyes flashing.

André frowned, "I made no deal with the Incas."

A harsh laugh escaped Miriam's throat, "No deal? The Incas have given me to you as your companion! Is that not a deal? Do not defend yourself, you pirate, you agreed to their atrocious terms, which means you were aware of their intents."

André's hands collapsed, letting go of Miriam. The young woman took back her hands and hugged herself tightly, setting the plate of food on the floor. Her eyes lost their anger, replaced by fear.

"André? Please tell me you didn't agree. I have already lost Chris, and I don't want to lose you. Please, don't agree to their terms…I though…I though that…" her voice broke and tears ran down her cheeks once more, leaving glistening trails of moisture.

André didn't move. Miriam looked into his bright blue eyes but couldn't read the expression on his handsome face. There was a long silence, as Miriam curled herself up, leaning on the bags behind her, silent tears running down her cheeks. André was still, as if frozen in a wormhole in time. His eyes were vacant and his braided coal black hair, so like his fathers, didn't sway in the breeze. Miriam wiped her tears and leaned forward to gently rest her hand on André's, "André?"

"I never meant to harm you," he croaked, his blue eyes tortured.

"Then why?"

His eyes pierced her soul, "I wanted to protect you. Acahuana and Urcon where planning your life. They were going to give you to a man you didn't know and… didn't love. The man…he would hurt you. I don't want anyone to hurt you Miriam…never…and I won't let them."

Miriam looked at his soft blue eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.

They were slaves. Their future was uncertain and death could occur any day. In this complicated web of life, where the ocelot ate the capybara they were the prey of the mighty Incas, and the waiting death. The Amazon River flowed past the canoes quickly, and it seemed as though it washed away their past and future with its sweeping currents.

o o o

The Andes Mountains were tall and their grass covered slopes and falls were shrouded by an unnatural fog. The birds' calls and chirping had faded, and the air was dense with an ancient mist. Tendrils of the humid air enveloped the small party as it pushed through a hidden path. The mountains rose on either side of the path, their presence dominant over the life. It was dark under the clouds of fog that hung above them, but the sun punctured the sky in various places, transforming the landscape with its unearthly rays of light. Rock showed from under the moss grass, its grey face hinting to the mountains that lay beneath the moss and grass. Not even the sound of the chains around the slave's wrists was heard, the fog muting everything like a filter in the air. The slaves breathed in the humid white air, their lungs tingling with the scent of the ancient mountains.

Miriam could feel the Andes pressing on her. Never before had she felt like she did now. Their presence ran through the outlandish fog that enveloped the tips of the mountains in its embrace. A hum filled the air, but it came not from above, but from below. It coursed through the ground, moving beneath the earth, it was from the very soul of this world. The place seemed to speak with wisdom and age, causing Miriam to shiver involuntarily.

André turned around slowly, his braided black hair clicking under his blue bandana. His blue eyes were thoughtful and cautious. When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper, "Do you feel it? It is unearthly."

Miriam nodded in agreement, casting a glace at the mountains around her, as if they could hear, "I feel it. It is ancient, beyond all years. It is the womb of Earth."

André grinned, his teeth flashing as a ray of light broke through the fog to land on their heads, "The womb of the Earth? Maybe, but it sure stirs your mind and senses."

"The boat was much better than this," commented Miriam bitterly, as she watched a condor fly over head, its majestic winds spread gloriously in the sun.

André cocked his head in a smile, "You definitely are a girl of the sea."

Miriam looked at him challengingly, "That has nothing to do with it. I was referring to the fact that we were stuck eleven days in a tiny canoe, sleeping most of the time and now I regret not enjoying the ride. We have walked for three days and I am not that strong after the slave ship."

André diverted his glace towards the slopes and falls of the mountains, but Miriam saw the glitter in his crystal blue eyes at her excuse.

"If you say so," André said, his voice laughing.  
Miriam was not given a chance to reply. André halted suddenly in front of her, causing Miriam to collide with him.

"André! Don't do that! You're going to…" Miriam started, rubbing her nose.

André interrupted her, putting a hand to her mouth and motioning her to look at the Inca leaders. They had stopped. Urcon seemed enraged, and Acahuana simply tired.

"They are still capable of revealing the spot! Do you have no loyalty to your city?" Urcon hissed, his brown face contorted into a scowl.

Acahuana sighed, "Urcon, I will not tolerate this behavior. They are slaves, and will not escape their eminent death in the city. A life of servitude awaits them, it is hardly necessary to take the appropriate means. It is their right to know the passage to their city of death."

Urcon smashed his fist against his other hand in fury, "If we do not follow the orders we must always I will announce your disobedience to the council and let them decide your punishment."

Acahauna drew himself up to his full height, his straight black hair moving slightly in the breeze, "I am the eldest, and I only may speak to the council. Though I will value your opinion and follow your advice, you will be punished for having menaced your lord and elder. You will ask for forgiveness and are never to repeat this again."

Urcon bent his head, but Miriam could see the lifeless smile that crept on his lips as his brother beckoned a guard and gave him orders. She tensed, Urcon would kill Acahauna if he ever got the chance, and Miriam didn't like the idea of having Urcon as a master.

"Acahuana is not cautious enough. Urcon is full of hatred and in need of power, he will mutiny," André whispered in Miriam's ear, startling her.

Miriam smiled at the young man's use of words, "Mutiny?"

André looked at her, his eyes twinkling in silent laughter, "You think it's funny if I use sea words on land?"

Miriam didn't respond, but the smile was still plastered on her face.

"You know who Urcon kind of reminds me of?" commented André.

Miriam looked at him, "Who?"

"Barbossa," finished André, his eyes following the movement of the guards as they removed long pieces of cloth from the packs on the llamas.

"My mother and father told me about Barbossa and Captain Jack Sparrow. Mostly my father though. My mother would just tell us, me and…" suddenly Miriam's voice broke as she remembered her brother, dead or lost forever on this odd continent. André turned his eyes to hers, his blue eyes sad. His arm settled itself around her shoulders and for once, Miriam didn't argue.

"Don't cry, Miriam, but don't forget him. I saw him on your father's ship, and you can be sure that if he is alive, he is doing well," André soothed her. Miriam tensed as a guard approached them. Tugging her forward by the chains, the strong-looking Inca pulled her to him. Miriam tried to cry out, but was cut short as the guard forced her to her knees, kicking her legs out from under her. Miriam felt the tug in the chain as André tried to get to her, but saw how a guard did the same to him. Her guard removed a long piece of cloth from his pocket and tightly wrapped it around her head, covering her eyes. She heard the guard's footsteps walk away and felt a tug on the chain, pulling her from her position on the floor. She could not longer see as she stumbled, the chain guiding her steps. The purple colored cloth coloring her world purple. "André?" she asked. Miriam felt his hand find hers and held on.

"I'm here Miriam, but I am seeing a lot of blue," she heard him say, close to her.

"I was wondering what they had been arguing. It seems like Urcon is not that …inclined to show us the road to his Inca city. Fear is a thing which can be easily worked with," Miriam commented, her voice grave as she struggled forward, trying not to trip of fumble on any rocks.

She heard André chuckle, "You're clever Miriam. It does, in fact, seem like they are somewhat hesitant to show us the way. And why might that be?"

"You know the answer well enough; there is no need to ask me."

"Ah, but you know I love to hear the sound of your voice," André's tone was light and careless with a hint of a smile.

Miriam snorted, "Another reason not to talk at all…"

André's laugh sounded, "I don't think we've made any progress from the first day we meet. You are still the same person; cold, suspicious and harsh."

"Now you're flattering me," said Miriam sarcastically.

She heard the chains rattle as André slipped his arm around her shoulder.

"André, take off your arm. Hold my hand, so that if I stumble and fall I don't kill myself, but take your arm off me." Miriam could feel the grin on André's face as his arm slid off her shoulders and she felt his hand in hers once more.

o o o

The walk lasted for two days. Their world was dark and hostile behind their blindfolds, but Urcon would not let them remove them at all. Colored worlds took shape before their eyes through the nights and days. Yet, the blindfolds didn't hide the ancient beauty of the Andes Mountains. The slaves felt as the mountain fog enveloped them, as the condor flew over their heads, as the sun shone through holes in the fog.

Miriam heard the voices long before the guards came to take off the blindfolds. It had started innocently, their party had seemed to be crossing more people, more Incas. But the voices grew, and soon she could hear the rock being cut from the mountain face. André had heard it too. His body had tensed at the noise of the slaves carrying stones to build temples and houses. This was to be his world, his death and he knew it. The whispers had grown progressively, and Miriam could feel the majestic city, the many houses, the many children and adults.

Sun shone into her eyes and blinded her in the mountain's green splendor. The guard that had removed the colored cloth grunted as she shielded her eyes. It was the most beautiful and entrancing sight she had seen in her life. André gasped beside her, something she had never heard him do in all the days they had been together. Lord Acahuana smiled at his slaves kindly as their expressions revealed their amazement.

"Welcome to Machu Picchu."

**A/N: Hope you liked that chapter! Kind of a cliffhanger, but not really. I'll try to post really soon, but it all depends on how lazy I feel at the moment :) Anyways, don't forget the 3 R's: REVIEW, REVIEW and REVIEW! You guys did a wonderful job on Chapter 5, continue! Don't feel intimidated to give me suggestions, as you can see…read I guess, Smithy gave me a great suggestion which I will incorporate in my next chapter! Review!**


	7. Dark Clouds

**A/N: Thanks for reviewing! I know that I should have put this up three days ago, but I was involved in this intern program, which was really nice. Anyways, I have been skipping the disclaimer a lot, but, like you know, I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean :( **

**Smithy: Thank you for your understanding! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and give me your opinion in your review :) !**

**Mysterious-muse: You are a great reviewer! Thanks for your reviews, they are really enjoyable! I am glad that you feel flattered, that makes me feel flattered :)**

**Vampirehelsing: Thank you for the great compliments! I have read your stories and they are really good, you're just so humble that you are too nice to admit it:)**

**Now…Chapter 7! Wow!**

Chapter VII: Dark Clouds

The sun rose late on Port Royal. Yellow and orange streaks of light colored the horizon as the bright rays of the sun snaked over the island. The sun pulled on the narrow rays, trying to push itself up into the sky beside the dark clouds, but the town would not have it. Death and despair hung over the small houses and mansions in place of the bright sun. As the glittering orb struggled to heat the morning, the dark clouds of mourning pushed it back. The streets were dark, and the shadows of the boats covered the port town. The flags on the ships were still as they hung limply from the poles. Black colored the landscape and cries of sadness and despair took the place of the lark's chirping.

Will Turner paced the study, his boots emitting loud clunks on the wooden floor. His appearance was spotless, not showing the pain he knew within. His shoulder length wavy brown hair was tied back into a small ponytail. A cutlass clattered beside a pistol around his leather belt. His loose white blouse and brown sleeveless jacket over it blended perfectly with his chocolate brown eyes. His stroked his mustache thoughtfully, his muscles tensed.

The study was a small room in the Swann mansion. A round mahogany table of three legs held down the red Persian carpet to the wooden floorboards. No light streamed in the wide window that encompassed an entire wall, the black clouds oppressing the town. The smell of old pages waffled through the room from the many books. Two entire walls were dedicated to bookshelves, on opposite sides of the room. Artifacts from around the world, including a Ganesh from India, Buddha statues from china, and a samurai sword from Japan, served as book stands and holders. The door to the study silently opened, a soft creaking with it. Elizabeth walked in, wheezing under the weight of her stomach. Will immediately got a chair from the table in the middle of the room and sat her on it.

"Elizabeth, are you all right?" he asked, his brown eyes concerned as he took her hand in his.

Elizabeth looked at him, her usually shining hazel eyes were glazed and her face was pale. She nodded, her brown curls bouncing in her bun.

Will hugged her tight, taking care not to hurt her swelled stomach, "I miss them too. What did the Commodore say?"

A muffled sob escaped Elizabeth's lips as the though of her children forced itself into her mind, "I…he…the Commodore found Rachel."

Will looked into her face eagerly, "Tell me."

"She…she…was a slave…before she died," Elizabeth's voice cracked under the tears and sobs that shook her body. Will stood up and paced around the round wooden table. He knew what those words meant, as his wife's sobbing only confirmed his beliefs.

"They were captured and sold as slaves then," he voiced, his throat constrained.

Elizabeth nodded slowly, lifting her face defiantly. Taking a handkerchief from her waist, she wiped the remaining tear from her eyes. She would cry no more. No tears were left in her to cry. Now cold resolution took hold of her. They would find their children, they would live.

Will let his fist drop heavily on the mahogany wood table, "I set sail tomorrow."

"I will go as well," came Elizabeth's quiet reply.

Will looked at her, his eyes full of concern and love, "No, my love, you can't come. Our child is due soon and I can't have you on a ship when it is born. You will have midwives and doctors to attend you. When Miriam and Chris…" he looked down at his fist a second before continuing, "…were born on the ship, I though I had lost you. I can't let that happen again."

Elizabeth smiled up at her husband's face, "You won't lose me. But I must find my children, I must keep them safe. If they die, then I will be lost forever."

Will came to her, and wrapped her into his embrace, lifting her from the red cushion chair she had sat on. "I can't have you come, Elizabeth. It will be hard and difficult to find them, but I promise you that I will find them for you…for us."

Elizabeth knew she couldn't go. It was impossible. Her child was due soon and Will wouldn't risk her life. Will knew their children well. He had taught Miriam sword fighting and the staff, Christopher he had taught the knives, and both were excellent with a pistol. Their children were smart and cunning, they would survive. It was not a question of time, it was a question of location that bothered Elizabeth. If they were going to the Spanish conquers, she feared for her daughter. But the slave dealers hadn't been usual. Most slaves went to the conquers, yet they had found Rachel's body near a cotton plantation. It was odd, and Elizabeth feared for her children with those slavers. As far as she knew, they could be in India. Elizabeth buried her face in Will's embrace as she willed the tears that weren't there anymore to fall.

o o o

Will and Elizabeth were still standing in their embrace when they heard the gunshot. Will's hand immediately went to his cutlass that hung on his belt. Elizabeth didn't move, her eyes cold on the study door. They could hear shouting. A man was bellowing, and a maid screamed. The cries and yells were muffled by the thick oak door and no words could be made out. A crash was heard from the kitchen, followed by an angry yell. There was no noise for a moment before the house exploded with laughter. Steps were coming up the grand stairway, and they grew nearer. The voices were getting easier to make out through the door before Will and Elizabeth could make out two shoes outside the study door. Will stood straight and motioned Elizabeth to sit on a chair behind him. She obliged, knowing she could not fight with her pregnancy.

"Come in,' beckoned Will, his voice cold and his grip on his sword tight.

The door burst open. Will's sword flashed in the air and there was a clash as it crashed against another sword. The sword holder laughed goodheartedly, "Now, Will mate, is that any way to treat your old friend?"

Will opened his eyes wide in disbelief at the man standing in front of him. "Jack?" he whispered.

Jack Sparrow laughed at Will's face. The pirate hadn't changed. His hair was braided into braids and decorated with beads, and covered by a red bandana and a three point pirate hat. Jack's dark eyes were outlined heavily with kohl, accenting his tanned face. Gold teeth flashed as he smiled, his mustache and braided goatee in the background. His clothes were loose. A white chemise was covered by a brown jacket, his pants were dark colored and two pistols hung from his red belt.

"How's Elizabeth?" Jack asked, twirling his sword in his hand.

Will was too shocked to speak. Elizabeth stood up, "Jack! I can't believe it! After so many years, why do you come now?"

Jack grinned at her, "Ah, luv, I'll be explaining to ye," his eyes widened as he noticed the great swell of her stomach, "Elizabeth! More children! How many children do you have?"

Elizabeth lowered her head, her thoughts once more turning towards her children. She felt Will wrap his arms around her and whisper in her ear, disturbing some stray tendrils of hair, "Go lie down, Elizabeth. It isn't good for the baby or for you to be walking around so much."

Elizabeth smiled up at him, and kissed him lightly on the cheek before sweeping out the door to her chamber.

Will turned his attention to Jack, who was looking over the jade Buddha in his hands.

"That is not for sale. Put it back on the shelf, you pirate," Will commented.

Jack grinned and slapped Will on the back, "Not an eunuch, eh? So how many children have you two had in these past years?"

Will smiled slightly at Jack, "I never was an eunuch, as you can see by Elizabeth and I only have two children…twins. Don't you remember? You came to visit them once."

Sparrow's face split into a grin, "Those two mischief makers? The strong minded girl and the handsome boy? They were a great pair those two. I don't remember well because…I was having certain problems…servi?"

Will narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "Problems?"

Jack sighed and sat on a chair, setting his feet on the mahogany table, "I came here because I have certain problems you can solve, and Will…why the long face, mate?"

Will looked up shyly, his eyes full of sorrow, "My children. They were captured by slave dealers and we can't find any trace of them. I will go find them, even if I have to die…Elizabeth needs them, as do I."

The pirate rolled his eyes, "God, not again. Last time you said that we were off to save your bride to be," Jack sat up straight in his chair, "Will, how old are your children?"

Will shuffled his feet uncomfortably, "18…"

"AND YOU ARE WORRIED? God, Will, those children are as old as you were when you went hunting for Elizabeth! They can manage on their own!" cried Jack, making insane gestures with his hands.

"Well…"

Jack waved it off, "I am not here to talk about your offspring, but rather mine, so let's keep all that for later."

Will didn't look at Jack.

"It was nineteen years ago. There was this woman, Oceana. You wouldn't understand Will, but I fell in love with her. We had our times together and I made her move on to the Black Pearl. She had once been a pirate, and it somehow attracted me to her. Once on the pearl, there was a surprise I never expected to come from our relationship she was pregnant. He was born in that fall, when the storms were at the worst, and I though I loved Oceana at the time, I never feared for her. I feared for him. I named him André, just a passing fancy, I really don't remember how I came up with the name, but it fit him. I taught him everything I knew. Oceana had become persistent with marriage and André was the only escape I could find in those times. He was a quick learner, clever and agile. Too clever and too agile. Oceana and I had a row one night. I feared for my own safety with her on board. She was a pirate and would not hesitate to kill me, even with everything there had been between us. Oceana was dreadful. She fed André's ears with foul lies about betrayal and about the joys and fortune he would have from being the King of all pirates in my place. I could no longer bear it, but I still loved my son, the crew constantly repeated he looked so much like me. Oceana was jealous of that love, and when he was five, she took him and went back to her town.

You could imagine me when I woke up…no, you couldn't. I was distraught. Never in my life had I worried so much for another person. Oceana had taken my son from me, André, the only one who one day might excel and surpass me. André Sparrow. So I did the most obvious thing and went to Oceana's house. He had escaped her, my clever son. She wept when she told what he had told her. He had told her that he could not live with her, because he belonged in the sea, sailing the waves of freedom. Oceana sobbed that he had been so innocent and polite to her that she hadn't had the courage to stop him. I would have killed her, but for André's sake didn't. He would ever forgive me for killing his mother. I hunted him down until I found him. He was first mate of a fine privateer ship; he even had his own tutor, an old man named Pythagoras. We attacked the ship, for I had not know it was his and found myself face to face with a copy of me. André had grown out his black hair and done it in braids and beads like mine. He charged at me and accused me of killing his mentor Pythagoras, which was dead at my feet, but whom I had not killed. I fought, but not to kill, to disarm. He was so alike to me that it was eerie to fight him, only in his eyes, blue like the lagoon, Oceana's eyes could I fight. I misjudged his skills and he gave me a nasty scar on the arm. Deeming that enough he left, and again I was forced to pursue my son around the world."

Will looked at Jack hesitantly, his eyes asking.

Sparrow sighed, his eyes shifting around the room, "I have my sources, and they knew he was on your ship. I want him _now_, chasing him around the world has become quite tiring."

A smile spread on Will's face, "He never told me that story."

Jack looked up into Will's, as if he never really had been sure his son was with him.

Will sat down from his position of leaning on the table, "I knew from the moment I saw him that he was your son, or maybe your twin brother. He's the spiting image of you Jack! The hair, his face, his nose, his body, and the way he smiles. Only the eyes were different, those bright blue eyes. He told me you were out after him to kill him. So, naturally I gave him a place in my crew."

Jack looked up, a grin on his face, "You do that naturally? Take people that I am after into your crew?"

Will grinned back.

"So, where is he?"

Suddenly Will's face dropped as he looked away, "I haven't seen him since the slave dealers came. A friend of his who was with him says that they clubbed him from behind. He was taken to the ship and made a slave."

Captain Jack Sparrow had never looked so sad. His eyes were dull before a fire took hold of them, "I must find him! Is he with your daughter and son?"

Will nodded, "Yes, he probably is with Christopher and Miriam."

"Miriam? That's a nice name. You shouldn't worry about your children if they are with him, because I am going to find them," Jack Sparrow jumped from his chair to make his way out of the chamber. Will stood up, "Then I am going with you."

Jack looked at Will and smiled, "And your pregnant wife? What of Elizabeth?"

The door of the study burst open and a frightened maid came running in. After nodding her head lightly in respect at Will, she put her hands on her cheeks, "Captain Turner! Your wife! Lady Elizabeth…she…she just went into labor!"

Will's face paled and Jack could feel the tension humming like lighting through the room. Gently, he set his hand on the man's shoulder, "I'll stay until everything is set before we leave."

Will took no notice as he rushed to Elizabeth's chambers, only to be blocked by a stern midwife, "You can't come in, sir. The doctors are coming and there is nothing you can do."

Worry and fear gripped Will's face. He knew it was too soon for Elizabeth to go into labor, "Please, her condition…how is she…is she alright?"

The midwife's face softened at his concern for his wife, "Sir, we have hope…"

"How is she?" Will practically screamed.

The midwife bowed her head, "Not well. Her condition is between life and death; all we can do for her now is pray."

**A/N: Hehe…cliffhanger! This time it really is one. Will Elizabeth die? I know that this is pretty cruel and it will upset you :) but, here we go: I am going on vacation and I don't know how soon I'll be able to update. I am going to Spain to visit my relatives. I don't know if you can update in Spain, I really hope you can. If you can, then I'll post maybe in two or three weeks, depending on the airplane trip and what I have to do when I get there. If it doesn't work then I won't see you until August. I know that it is bad. But don't abandon me! Check for updates this month, because it probably will work and I'll upload another chapter in two weeks…or one. Don't stop reviewing and checking to see if it is uploaded! REVIEW THIS CHAPTER! Thanks :) I know that you guys are great, so how about we push this up to 30 reviews? You can do it! Just remember the 3 R's: REVIEW, REVIEW and REVIEW!**


	8. Machu Picchu

**A/N: Okay, there is a little of background that you need to know about Machu Picchu. Some may know it and some may not. Machu Picchu is often referred to as the 'Lost City of the Incas'. Machu Picchu's inhabitants were Incas that fled Cusco when it was invaded by the Spanish conquistadors, also called 'the conquers'. Even though most construction took place in the 15th century, many buildings and temples were added as the population grew, because of more Inca cities being destroyed and the Incas moving to this safe haven. **

**There is not a lot known about the Incas, as all the information we have is given to us by archeological evidence. The facts in this chapter are the facts on which historians have agreed on based on the information. If you have any complaints or comments about the information please tell me in your reviews, no one is perfect…except me ;) **

**Rose of Shade: Can you explain the new penname; I don't get it. Is the R for him and the S for you or…actually, I think that it is a better idea that you explain it. Thanks for the reviews, you know I like them. Hehe, yes, I do like the name Pythagoras, it sounds very wise…maybe because it is a theorem :) Tell me what you think of Moonstone and keep reviewing!**

**Smithy: It would be very sad if Will became a widower…but I guess you'll have to wait until the next chapter to know:) Thanks for being such a loyal reviewer, you don't know how much I appreciate it! **

**Vampirehelsing: Thanks for you tip on how to successfully update, I have a few problems but it really helped! Your opinion is good, I like opinions, furthermore, I completely agree with you, Will would probably become a mindless zombie for a while…but would that further the plot:) lol! Thanks for your reviews, they mean the world to me!**

**Mysterious-muse: You really find a way to flatter me :) I am happy that you liked the last chapter; it is like bringing back the old gang! Keep in mind that Will, Elizabeth and Jack are only about 38 years old…certainly _not_ old at all! Still looking good! Lol! Tell me what you think of my new character Moonstone after this chapter, I want to know what to do with her and your opinion is really valuable! **

**Erebus: IF André does die, I'll make sure that it is an obsidian blade. Just read this chapter and don't come back to tell me that it is nothing about the Incas and they could be slaves anywhere else. Where else in the entire world would they send you into the mountains to pick up llama dung for fuel eh?**

**Now, knowing that I already put a disclaimer and I do own everything except the fact that they are the progeny of Will, Elizabeth and Jack…okay, maybe Port Royal too…I give you (drum roll) …**

Chapter VIII: Machu Picchu

Life screamed out from the stone city. Birds chirped and sung overhead and llamas grazed in the fields beside the hardworking farmers. Buildings were made out of stones and dirt, blending in with the rock and moss of the mighty Andes. The small valley was a pocket amid the tall and ancient mountains, a safe heaven of time. The city was a capsule of angles, straights and Inca art decorating the faces of the granite rocks. Light cast by the sun was cut off by the mountains, allowing just enough sun to reach the square buildings that dotted the valley. A trickling river splashed by the fields, providing irrigation and briefly passed the great rock quarries where the slave men and boys worked, sweat basking their bodies. The silent condor flew overhead, his majesty filling Mach Picchu with life.

Miriam observed the condor fly overhead, her face tilting slightly in the light. Tendrils of hair escaped her simple braid that swished faintly in the invisible breeze. She wore a harsh brown wool dress her mistress had given her but a few minutes ago. As soon as they had arrived at Machu Picchu, Acahuana and Urcon had left them, instructing the slave masters to split them and show them to work. All the young women had been chained together and the young men to another chain. André hadn't liked the idea of being separated from Miriam, but there was nothing any of them could have done. André was taken to the quarry to work immediately while Miriam was marched off with the rest of the women. Two times during their march along the city streets they had picked up more slaves, all women. Three times they had dropped off slaves until there were only ten slaves left. Through the streets of the stone city they had been lead to a large home with many balconies and levels; Lord Acahuana and Urcon's mansion. Both men were married and had many children; Acahuana, being the eldest, had five sons and three daughters, Urcon only had one son and four daughters. Acahuana's wife was a kind lady, the same age as the lord. The slaves had seen the women as the y had passed by an unfurnished room, all the men and women sitting on mats on the stone floor. Urcon's wife was much younger, about the same age as Miriam. She had cold eyes and a stony face. Her long black hair and perfect skin made her magnificently beautiful, but as beautiful as a block of ice. Miriam had approved of her as Urcon's wife; both she and he were completely emotionless. All the slaves had been given their dress and left in a small chamber with but three windows. They waited, as the condor flew above the ancient city.

"Where were you caught?" The voice caught Miriam completely by surprise. A young woman, one of the slaves had spoken. She was around the same age as Miriam with long white hair. Her eyes were of the brightest emerald green in the Amazon.

"So?" she asked again.

Miriam looked at her squarely in the eyes, her soft hazel ones no match for the young woman's intense green eyes, "I was caught in my home city of Port Royal. You?"

A thin smile spread over the white haired girl's face, "On a boat. I was headed for the southern plantations of America. Moonstone is what they call me. Do you have a name?"

"Miriam."

"Pleased to meet you."

"As am I," responded Miriam, sensing as the ice broke between them.

Moonstone smiled genuinely, "Have you seen all those children? It is amazing all of them survived to their current ages. The older lord has three daughters, but they are still small and can die. His four younger sons of ten or nine are not as vulnerable and his eldest, the one of twenty years is indeed quite handsome and appealing," Moonstone's green eyes sparkled.

Miriam looked at her in disapproval, "He is the heir to this mansion and the family name. Apart from having all those honors and prestige and probably being completely spoiled, he an Inca who approves our enslavement and is in no way whatsoever appealing."

Moonstone laughed, "You don't like him, do you?"

Miriam locked her jaw, "No."

"Got someone else in mind? Already have a sweetheart?" Moonstone asked, leaning back and looking over her nails.

Miriam blushed a deep crimson. "I most certainly do not!" she hissed.

"What's the problem? Do you have some sort of aversion to all men?" Moonstone commented lightly.

"No. I just don't have anyone else in mind and prefer not to think of those things. Okay?"

"That's alright with me, but personally, I think that you just like someone and don't want to admit it."  
It took an enormous amount of will for Miriam to constrain from throwing a heavy object directly at Moonstone. "I DO NOT LIKE ANYONE!" Miriam near screamed.

Moonstone lifted her eyes and observed Miriam, "You don't have to scream. In fact, I'll be more likely to believe you if you don't scream."

"I do not like anyone. I might be a little touchy about emotional attachment because I just lost my twin brother a week or so ago, but I do not like anyone," Miriam explained, her voice dead calm.

Moonstone looked up, a horrified expression on her face, "You were in love with your brother?"

Miriam looked back at Moonstone, her expression even more mortified than that which Moonstone wore, "Chris? Are you mad! My own brother? God no, not that way! I loved him like a brother and we were very close…but any other way! No. That is just repulsing to think about!"

Moonstone grinned, "Miriam! I was only joking!"

Miriam shook her head, "Don't do that. I am still in mourning for him."

Moonstone's eyes softened, "I am sorry…how did it happen?"

There were no tears in Miriam's eyes, "He caught _managi_ on the slave ship and was too weak to be bought by the Incas for their purposes."

"That is just another reason why you don't like the Incas, am I correct?" Moonstone put in.

Miriam nodded as the hide that covered the door frame of the small chamber was pulled aside. A stern old lady looked over them all, her bronze skin shining in the light. Her long black hair, streaked with white, was done in an elegant braided bun at the back of her head, a folded piece of cloth pinned to her hair. She had squinty black eyes and a wide mouth. Her face was covered in the wrinkles of time. Unusually, her forehead was elongated. Miriam had noticed that all Incas had this deformity when she had traveled up the paved roads of Machu Picchu. This had not been easy to notice in Acahuana and Urcon as they had worn great headdresses. The old woman was small in stature, and while sitting, Miriam was still the same height.

"You are all the girls they give me? How am I to run this house? Eh? How?" she muttered, her head moving with the words she spoke in her Inca accent. It was clear the Incas spoke another language. This was something that had before escaped Miriam as well, since Acahuana and Urcon seemed so gifted for other languages other than their own. The old woman shook her head, a resigned expression on her wrinkled face, "Well, this will have to do," she brushed an invisible dust particle off her white sleeved dress, which showed her higher status in the family. She wore no sandals on her feet. Clearing her throat she took in a breath before she talked, "Alright you girls, you are to serve in the household of the Acahuana _ayllu_. My lord's wife, Anahuarque is now your mistress, my lord Urcon's wife, Chic'ya, will be your mistress if lord Acahuana should die until lord Acahuana's eldest son, Acahuana, takes a wife of his own."

Moonstone looked at the old woman quizzically, "Do we report to them?"

The stern woman shot Moonstone a withering glaze as she turned her head amazingly quick to look at Moonstone in the eyes, "You shall not speak unless spoken to! You report? What is this? You are a slave and report to no one. You follow my orders and do not report."

Moonstone bowed her head at the old woman, a sign of respect the stern lady acknowledged, "Good. I am Cuva, and you shall follow my orders and do what I tell you. All are dressed, yes?"

The young women nodded solemnly.

"Good. Now, there is a lot of work to be done, so, I will divide you into…" Cuva trailed off as she counted the ten girls around her, "three groups. There is much work to be done before the festival of _Inti Ramyi_. Three of you shall go to the mountain with the llama and _alpaca_ herders. Pick up all llama dung and bring it back, it is to be used as fuel. You other three will aid the spinners spin the alpaca wool into cloth, then bring it to the _maga_ who will cut it and sew it into clothes. The remaining four will be _chicha_ slaves one day and dye wool another. You two will be _chicha_ slaves today and tomorrow dye _alpaca_ wool. You two stay so I can explain how to dye the wool. All rest leave, _Inti Ramyi_ is not but few suns away."

The young women emptied out of the small room. Their faces were bare and shallow, doomed before their enslavement lives began. Bare feet trailed on the stone floor, dragging dust with them. The brown wool dresses blended with the dark wall, and the slaves' eyes glinted furtively as they closed the door behind them. Miriam shifted in her chair and looked over at her companion: Moonstone. The young woman was luxuriously combining her long radiant white hair. Miriam looked at her own brown wavy hair done plainly in a braid and felt like a dishcloth beside a silk handkerchief.

"Now, you two are to dye the wool of the Acahuana _ayllu_. This is a great task to be appointed to and I expect no mistakes, understood?" Cuva grumbled, her hands on her hips.

Miriam saw Moonstone's rich hair flow over her shoulders as she nodded.

"Good. _Alpaca_ wool is soft and absorbs much dye. All wool you will dye red today. Clothes are dyed, colored outside in the courtyard; there is a basin and scrubber you can use. I have set the clothes outside in a basket for you to dye. Use the _madder_ roots sparingly, as well the soap; it is made of llama milk and mountain flowers, a rare commodity, only for our great _ayllu_. The basin needs to be filled with water, get buckets and go down to the Urubamba River to do so. You will first pound the _madder_ leaves until a soft red paste results. Fill basin with water and wool and empty the paste in basin. Mix with the _rama_ provided. When the wool has absorbed all the liquid and there is no more red in water empty water. Then braid the grass stalks and set aside for sandals. Once you have let the wool rest for a while wash the cloth free of the excess dye with soap and more water. You will report to the slave barracks once done." the severe woman departed through the exit, pulling the hide over the opening behind her.

Moonstone looked over at Miriam, her green eyes smiling, "Well, where do you think she keeps the buckets?"

o o o

The buckets were hard to find. Moonstone and Miriam had wandered the great palace, searching all the rooms many times with no result. No rooms had furniture. Mats and cushions spread on the floor, but furniture lacked in the entire building. Everything was made of stone, its angular and quadratic rooms forming the magnificent residence. Moss and small fountains adorned chambers and halls alike. Light streamed in open windows, turning green as it traveled through the plants set on the window frames. The Andes' presence was felt in the still air, the breathing walls and brightly colored wool carpets. There were no doors in the entire structure. In areas that demanded privacy, the stone frames of the openings were covered with animal hide. Miriam had been trifling through the contents of a small storage compartment when Cuva found them. The authoritative old woman settled her hands on her hips and glared, her black eyes burning holes through both Miriam and Moonstone.

"What is this?" she commanded.

"We were looking for buckets," responded Miriam, her head bowed.

Cuva sighed loudly, murmuring rapidly in Inca under her breath. She waddled away, beckoning them to follow her.

A courtyard greeted them, the tepid noon sun warming their faces. A low fence of stones ended the courtyard on the face of the Andes Mountains. Vines and mosses grew unchecked on the fence, climbing the walls of the house. To one side of the house stood the large basin, with three scrubbing pads, two bars of milky white soap, piles of _madder_ roots, terracotta bowls and a large bronze basket full of white _alpaca_ wool, flowing out like a fountain. Cuva motioned them to look at the three simple wood buckets that stood beside the bronze basket, her face tilted up completely as Miriam and Moonstone towered over her short frame.

"You are not to do anything in the house without my given permission. Understand? Buckets here. Go to river and get water," Cuva pointed, her long hair never escaping the pins that held it.

"We are sorry," Moonstone offered, her green eyes flashing with anything but an apology.

Cuva bristled, "SORRY? Slaves do not speak, they WORK! I would BEAT you both of your IMPERTINECE, but the ladies will not allow it. Now GO!"

Miriam took two buckets in her hands and left, not trusting herself beside the old woman. She would not be able to withhold her anger and it wouldn't help her situation if she were to kill the old Inca. Forcing Moonstone to take a bucket she ushered them both out of the courtyard, shutting the door behind her.

"That old woman thinks she can command me? Who in the hell does she think she is!" Moonstone vented, turning her head to fix her intense green eyes on the old woman.

Miriam elbowed Moonstone, "Watch it."

"Why?" the white haired woman demanded.

Miriam turned her flashing hazel eyes to her, "We are slaves, or do you not remember?"

"I remember, but I am a captain of my own ship! I have raided the Mediterranean from coast to coast and still an old woman thinks she can control me!"

Miriam stopped and turned to face Moonstone, "I don't care if you _used to be_ the King of Spain. You are _now_ a slave, hear me? A slave! Follow your orders; give me some time to think of some way to escape."

Moonstone narrowed her eyes. "I am not only Captain of _The Night_ and the one of the most feared pirates in the Mediterranean but daughter of the King of Italy…I am no slave."

Miriam felt her eyes widen, "You are a Princess of Italy?"

"No. My mother was not the Queen," Moonstone yawned, her eyes showing no sign of hatred, anger or repulsion.

Miriam nodded and began walking once more towards the river, "So, who was your mother?"

Moonstone laughed behind her, "No need to sound like someone just died! I am proud and happy of my parentage. There is nothing more normal than a Prince in love with a beautiful pirate. My mother and father were young and life is so short lived. I admire my parents. They had me then left, my father to become King and my mother to roam the seas, there is nothing simpler in life like that."

Miriam's voice was plain, "You are the King of Italy's bastard."

"No. I am Moonstone. Reproduction is to create a new generation, to allow the human race to continue. Parents have only one duty to their children; to produce them and give them life. Either than that, just the passing of their traits, there is nothing more; after all, they are just any woman and any man."

Miriam admired the young woman behind her; she was a proud woman who, though she placed little value on love and romance, was more human than anyone Miriam had ever met.

o o o

The soft trickling of water was heard long before they saw the Urubamba River. The water splashed on the rocks, lapping the shore. It was not wide; the height of an adult already surpassed the width of the blue water. Light sparkled on the crystal clear liquid, sending rays of light on the faces of the many women washing their clothes around it. Bubbles from the soap disappeared under the water, never surfacing again. Refreshing air spread around the river, forming a wall of relief from the heat that surrounded the valley. Chatter rose from the area as the women spoke amongst themselves, talking of gossip and rumors.

Miriam and Moonstone walked down to the river, smiling at the sight of all the life.

"To bad that we can't wash the clothes down here," commented Moonstone, her fingers drawing up her waist length hair into a large bun behind her head.

Miriam nodded, "Do you think that they are all slaves like us?"

"No, they talk Inca, and I highly doubt that any slave, no matter how smart can learn that language if the orders are given in our language."

"It can't be that hard, you don't give us enough credit."

"With the mortality rate amongst slaves! No, we aren't likely to live up to two years in this environment, and the way the old woman spoke, it seemed as if we are beat a lot more than we should be."

Miriam sighed in realization, "That is why I must come up with some sort of plan to get us out here."

"Us? I am really honored that you should consider me friend enough to save my life."

They came to halt in front of an imposing guard. Miriam looked up, her eyes inquiring the reason of his blockage. His dark eyes looked over her, traveling from her bare feet to her brown wool dress. He held a flint tipped spear decorated with multicolored feathers in large bronze hand. When he spoke, Inca words flowed out roughly.

"I can't understand you," explained Miriam.

The man looked at them more closely, "You can not see river water down this to women."

Moonstone looked at the man, her eyes confused, "Huh?"

Seeing that neither Miriam nor Moonstone understood him, he sighed. Taking Miriam forceful by the upper arm he started walking down the river.

"What in the hell are you doing to her! Can't you just talk, or do you have to take her by the arm, bruise her and kill her before you do?" Moonstone burst, grabbing the guard by the back of his shirt. The man turned, letting go of Miriam as he faced Moonstone.

"No stay here, part for not you. Go down to queeeeryy," he chewed on the word, "There water river for slave chains."

Miriam rubbed her arm were he had grabbed her, "He just wants us to go down the river to take water there."

Moonstone laughed, "And I though that he was going to kill you! Man, I can be really dense sometimes."

Miriam nodded to the guard, who happy they had finally understood began walking down to guard the other women by the river. Moonstone bounced forth, her long white hair, loose once more, swaying in the breeze.

They heard the chisel on rock, the hammer on the stone and the shovel in the dirt before they saw the quarry. Men worked hard under the sun, their labored breathing heard even by Miriam and Moonstone farther down the river. The water evened out and was nothing but a mere ghost once it finally passed through the stones and men. Miriam could see the young men clearly and her face constricted into a frown when she saw an old man fall to the ground, exhausted. A young man stepped forth and took the old man's place…coal black hair partly done in braids was covered with a blue bandana. Miriam was shocked to see André, his tanned chest bare with his loose white blouse around his waist. André lifted his face, wiping the sweat off his forehead when he stopped, his bright blue eyes resting on her form by the river. She saw his mouth split into a grin, white teeth flashing and realized how ugly and stupid she must look. Her brown dress was plain, and her wavy brown hair was pulled back into a single braid. She looked down, feeling her face flush a deep red when she heard his voice over the noise of the quarry.

"Miriam!" he called, waving his arm.

His grin flashed in the air, and she could barely bring up her hand as she waved back shyly. Men behind him whistled and patted him on the shoulder, but Miriam hardly noticed, aware only of her bright red face.

Moonstone chuckled softly behind her, "So you don't like anyone…"

Miriam lifted her face to turn and glare at Moonstone, only making the young woman laugh harder. "Miriam! Your face!" she gasped in between laughs.

"What, what is wrong with my face?" snapped Miriam, her eyes flashing.

Moonstone laughed louder, her body shaking, "It's all red!"

Miriam could feel the smoke emitting from her ear. Not wanting to harm the young woman she furiously dunked a bucket under the cool liquid of the waning river. She heard the rocks and stones shaped with the hammer and the chisel. She also heard the crack of a whip and the low growl that came from André's throat.

André let his chisel fall to the floor and turned to face the large man before him. He wore a black poncho over his shoulders and black pants. A belt adorned with instruments of torture.

"Get back to work ye slave! It ain't your little pet that is going to keep you from cutting stones!" the slave master hollered, cracking his whip in the air.

André growled, "What did you call her?"

The slave master turned to look at André surprise shown on his muscular face. His bald head glinted in the light as he laughed, "She's you pet ain't she?"

"No. She is not anyone's anything," André said, his voice dead calm. Miriam didn't deserve the harsh and condemning words that came out of this man's throat.

"If she's not your pet, then she'll be mine. She's to pretty a lass to be wasted," the muscular man sneered.

André felt his hand tighten into fist as he weighted the man in front of him. The man strong, his body toned with muscles acquired from beating the men on the quarry. Though André was exceptionally tall, this hard man in front of him made up for his lack of height with his sheer muscle. They were evenly matched in physical strength. André smiled; he knew many tricks that came from being a pirate this man wouldn't. Adding that to the man's confidence in himself, André had the advantage.

"I am giving you one last warning; do not repeat your slur."

"Pet."

André was quick. In one smooth motion he was on top of the man, tackling him to the floor. Clouds of white dust rose about them as André secured a fist on the man's jaw. Chisels dropped all around the fighting men as slaves found their new leader. The slave master punched André solidly in the stomach, sending him flying off. The muscular man positioned himself on top of André and gave him a concrete blow across the face, cutting André's lower lip. Blood flowed from his mouth, but André didn't care, slipping his leg to the side he rolled over, kicking the man away from him. Ruby blood stained his tanned hand as he wiped the blood off his lip, and threw himself on the slave master, receiving another blow on the stomach. Cries and shouts were heard beyond the white dust that enveloped them. André just had time to deliver one final strike before he was dragged off the slave master.

Two slave masters lifted the muscular man off the ground, relived that he was only badly bruised. They set him on a stone to rest and turned to the struggling young man in front of them. He was tall, his black hair held back by a blue bandana. Blood flowed freely from his cut lip and his tanned chest held a few black and blue bruises. He couldn't have been older than twenty.

"You are a slave, boy," the man hissed through his missing teeth.

The young man lifted his head, his amazingly bright blue eyes flashing and promptly spit into the man's face, "André to you."

The slave master blinked in fury; never before had a slave, a lowly slave spit in his face. Swiftly bring up his foot he kicked the obstinate slave in the stomach with all the strength he could muster.

André fell to the ground, pain cursing through him as he gasped. The foot again lifted in the air, before he could move, it landed squarely on his side, knocking the air out of him. Other slave masters joined in, kicking him as he tried to stop the force of the blows on the ground. The feet came to his side, his stomach, his legs, his back. André felt his body bruising and throbbing. He felt a rib crack and it was all he could do not to holler in pain. The slave master would not have the pleasure to hear him. It lasted a lifetime; André felt his defense give up as he slumped on the floor, his eyes closed and his body lifeless. The slave masters departed, laughing and talking hurriedly in their language.

No one helped him. Chisels were picked up and hammers broke the stone beneath them. No one helped him. His body ached and he felt blood begin to flow anew from his lip. His eyelids were forced open as he looked over to the river. Miriam had forgotten her bucket as it sailed peacefully down the Urubamba, flowing down towards the quarry. Her beautiful hair was still in the breeze. A stunning white haired young woman behind her held Miriam as she struggled to get free. André the pain on her face and his brow furrowed in concern. His blue eyes disappeared beneath his eyelids as he lost consciousness; the sound of the chisels on stone fading into the distance as his world turned black.

**A/N: That is a long chapter, it might appear shorter because the screen is very wide, but that is eight pages in Microsoft word, Times New Roman 12pt. Expect another chapter soon! And like always…remember the 3Rs! Review, Review and Review:) Oh! In your reviews, tell me what you think about my newest character Moonstone, I want to know what you think of her…so I might know how to handle her life :) lol. Hehe…That is two cliffhangers we have pending…is Elizabeth dead? Is André alright after his horrible beating? I know that this cliffhanger isn't as fatal as the last one, but I know that you all love André :) So enjoy!**


	9. Author´s Note

**Author´s Note:**

**Okay, I know that you guys aren´t going to like this (maybe I´m just hoping, but at least pretend to be sad...lol!) As you already know, I am in Spain visiting my relatives like I do every year. Well, I am going to the beach...but there is no internet on the beach. I know that you are probably crying or hating me right now, since I know that you love my story and can´t stop reading it. I´ll be gone for a while, I think until the last week of July. Depressing, yeah, I know. **

**So I left oyu with two cliffhangers and now I feel bad because you will have to be biting your nails in suspense until I tell you whether Elizabeth dies, and whether her unborn child lives. Poor Will...Jack better be nice to him... :) lol! Another cliffhanger I left you recently as well was the one when the Inca slave masters beat André half to death and left him on the ground. Hey, I know that he is in very bad shape, but if the Incas just let him off work because they hit him, every slave would fight to be beaten! Poor André...he´s such a perfect guy. I mean, he was bleeding and badly bruised and all he care about was the pain on Miriam´s face...I guess that is completely normal...I think I said to much. Anyways, don´t forget to REVIEW! By the time I get back from the beach at the end of July with at least five _long_ chapters I want there to be at least 50 reviews for my story. That is not that much...you can do that! Especially with such great reviewers such as Mysterious-muse, Vampirehelsing, Smithy, and Rose of Shade! You guys rock! Oh, and some of you are wondering what André looks like, just imagine Jack Sparrow, with the brightest and most intense blue eyes you have ever seen and 19 years old. In the movie I think Jack was suppose to be 30, correct me if I am wrong. Yeah...Miriam exagerates a little on André´s behalf. Anyways, (I really like that word) review, go the beach, learn to scuba dive (trust me, it is a lot of fun), tan (but be careful of those deadly UV rays) go on a boat, and HAVE A GREAT SUMMER! Go ride the waves of the sea... **

** - Anele **

**P.S. : You don´t have to review this, it isn´t a chapter. But...if you want to... :)**


	10. Wounds

**Author´s Note: I´m back! Vacation is over for the moment before I leave on August 4th to Paris to visit my grandma there. I am now (allow for a drum roll or a suspense moment) a certified scuba diver! Anyways, continuing with my story, which is what this is about...or should be...I want to tell you that when I came back from vacation I almost had a heart attack because in an entire mouth no one reviewed...well, that is because my loyal reviewers already reviewed before I left...tear, you are great guys:)**

**Mysterious-muse: Thanks for waiting all this time for this update, which will help relieve some of the tension with the cliff hangers…I hope. Anyways, I am happy that you liked Moonstone; hopefully you will still like her after you read what I have in store for her in the next few chapters. Hehe, just a little foreshadowing! By the way, keep writing your Promised Hearts story, it is really good and I really like where you are going with it!**

**Vampirehelsing: Great stories, how do you make enough time to write them? You make me feel so slow! lol :) Thanks for reviewing my ninth chapter, that really made me feel very loved…I mean, I didn't ask you to review it…did I:) Keep writing! I really hope that you like this chapter, it took me a few weeks to get it done with, nothing much happens but lot of interior struggle, tell me what you think!**

**Rose of Shade: Ahh, life…you with your boyfriend and me here, sitting, thinking whether I should open my e-mail for the first time in a month to find at least 10000 e-mails and most propaganda. You know what would be very awkward, if you had broken up with Ricky (though I really highly doubt it; you two make a great couple) and just because I am scared to check my e-mail I didn't find out yet and here I am talking about him…very awkward…I think I'll go check my e-mail now. **

**Mairi: YAY! NEW REVIEWER! Well, if you are reading this, then I might die of happiness. I really hope you find this and it relieves your tension over the two cliffhangers, sorry about those. Hey, let me guess about those two reviews: you send in the review and the computer did something weird, so you send it again, right? Or it could have been a website mistake. I wasn't proposing the other scenario because I did it but three reviews instead of one!...well…maybe…okay, lets get on with the story:)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean…but don't you dare copy my insane but magnificent idea of Miriam, André, Chris and the Incas! I highly doubt that you could get away with saying it was yours anyways, such a random thing like that…moving on, I present…tad a da daaaaaa !**

Chapter IX: Wounds

Miriam felt numb. Her fingers loosened and her grip on the pail relaxed letting the wooden bucket drift down towards the quarry. Her hair was still in the breeze, her hazel eyes shocked. The soft sun cascaded over her face, casting light on her features. Water lapped at her bare feet, yet she made no move to remove them from the crystal ice that flowed through her toes. The brown wool of her dress whipped lightly around her ankles in the air. Her lips opened slightly, mutely, her only moving surface. Tendrils of brown hair escaped the braid and were lifted delicately in the warm zephyr. Miriam didn't move as André crumpled on the floor, lifting a gust of white dust.

The men patted each other on the back as they left, laughing and turning to look at her still shape beside the river. No one made a move to help the young man up. His body lay on the ground, undisturbed as blood issued from his lips. Moonstone shifted behind her, distributing her weight evenly on her feet as she set a hand deftly on Miriam's shoulder.

"We have to go," she said, her words only slightly fogged by her Mediterranean accent.

Miriam didn't move, her hazel eyes forever resting on André's unconscious form.

"Miriam…" Moonstone began, her voice strained.

"I can't lose anyone else…not after Chris…" came Miriam's voice. She spoke barely above a whisper.

Moonstone turned Miriam around, her intense green eyes worried, "I'll get the bucket and we'll leave."

Miriam nodded, her senses returning. She didn't look back at André's limp body when Moonstone went to acquire the wood pail that had drifted down stream.

_Chris had always been a shy boy. The opposite of Miriam. Miriam was a stubborn girl, she had been the one to fight the sturdy boys that called her brother shy and teased him for hiding behind her. Miriam had rolled in the mud, escaped from the Turner mansion many times, and run the streets at night. Elizabeth had not approved, instead begging Miriam to be like her shy brother Chris. _

"_I do not want you to lead a life you do not want, a life you will regret," Elizabeth had explained after one of Miriam's escapades. Will had barely found her in time; Miriam had been trying to hide in a case and stowaway on her father's ship._

"_I like my life here, mother, but I yearn for the sea, for adventure. I know that it doesn't sound like something I will still want to do at the age of 16, but I want to now," a seven year old Miriam had countered._

"_Miriam…" Elizabeth had sighed, desperately looking at her husband for help._

"_What? You want me to stay in Port Royal forever? To sew and knit the rest of my life? Or is it because Chris is too weak and shy to stand up for himself and I have to stay here and guard him forever?"_

_The chamber had fallen silent at Miriam's last comment. Elizabeth had hugged Chris tighter than before and Will had simply looked at Miriam, calculating. Chris had turned his hazel eyes to Miriam's. They asked the reason. They told her he had never asked for it. He had told her that he felt ashamed. Gently standing up he had excused himself from his mother and nodded to his father before retiring to his room. Elizabeth had turned on Miriam with a withering stare. But Will had stopped the flow of words by gently kissing his wife before asking Miriam if what she had said was true. When Miriam had reluctantly nodded he had excused her to her room. They had arranged the two month exchange between Port Royal and the sea that night. _

_Miriam had felt Chris's humiliation, his pain as he got beaten when he had denied Miriam's help. But Chris would not let her defend him, hide him or protect him. One day, he had stood up for her in a triumphant moment. Two young men had been teasing a 13 year old Miriam, and Chris had stood up for her, like she had many times done for him. They beat Chris badly. When finally they had left, Chris was but a limp form on the ground, black and bleeding…so much like André now… Never again had Chris hid behind Miriam, he was an avid learner on his father's boat and was taught hand to hand combat along with the knives._

Miriam felt Moonstone pulling her away from the quarry, Moonstone's grip on her upper arm surprisingly strong.

"I feel like a slave. I have heard the stories and tales of slavery, I have heard the hardships of the human trade, but it never really felt it affected me…until now. What more will they do to him?"

The white haired young woman turned to look at Miriam, her eyes hard, "They need the human labor; they need slaves. André will live; they can't afford to kill him. They will not, however, help him. He will stay on the ground until he comes to himself. He will pick up his chisel and work. When night comes and the labor is done, then will he rest."

"I long for the sea, the waves of freedom," Miriam whispered, her breath disappearing in the air.

Moonstone's eyes filled with longing, "Me too."

o o o

The dyeing was cumbersome and difficult. _Madder_ roots refused to break and disintegrate beneath the pounding. Miriam and Moonstone took turns squeezing out the pulp and mixing the red staining liquid that resulted in the terracotta bowls. They washed and swished the liquid with the soft _alpaca_ wool. It was quickly absorbed and the clear water was whisked out and left in the wood buckets. Grasses where braided together, creating endless piles of grass string, they would later be used to fashion sandals for the Acahuana _ayllu_.

The sun had set behind the powerful Andes by the time all the wool had been turned from its white cream to red. The clouds subsided above to reveal an orange sky streaked with pastel colors of pink and yellow. Fires rose in the valley, the smoke swirling into the air to vanishing on the face of the mountains. Night descended on Machu Picchu, the stars appearing in the east.

Cuva scrutinized the wool, her black eyes narrowed into slits as she passed her aged hand through the bronze basket. Nodding, the stern woman lifted her head to smile at the young women who towered over her.

"Good. The wool is well dyed with _madder_. Tomorrow you will go to _chicha_ room and fill two _chicha_ jars. For now, go to slave barracks of Acahuana. You will be assigned a mat and given food. Go," Cuva dismissed them with a wave of her hand.

Miriam gently bowed her head, her braid gliding over her slender shoulder.

"Where are we supposed to go? I can't follow those kinds of orders, never was one for deciphering code…" Moonstone commented, her white hair silver under the moon's light.

Cuva glared, her mouth tightening into a thin line, "I will lead you. But you will have only a half ration tonight for your impertinence."

Miriam gently put a hand on Moonstone's shoulder as the old woman waddled towards the open fence, "It is not worth it."

Moonstone's eyes shone like the ocelot's eyes in the night. "I haven't eaten since yesterday! I deserve a whole ration, regardless if the old lady misunderstands my humor!" she hissed under her breath.

Miriam shot Moonstone a warning glance and walked after Cuva, "Your life depends on that old lady's whim. I suggest you watch your tongue and keep your humor for another occasion."

Moonstone threw her hair over her shoulder and thundered after Miriam, her eyes losing their anger and frustration as the breeze wafted through her milky white hair.

Located behind the Acahuana house, the slave barracks where large. Three long mud structures lined the open area, grass and vines climbing shyly up the sides. Light from the orange flames danced through the open door, casting dark orange light outside. Yet the barracks where quiet; the cicadas chirruped from the mountains and grasses covering the sound of the soft whispers from the three mud abodes. Short grass ticked the soles of Miriam's feet as she approached the first barrack, following Cuva's short figure. Out of her peripheral vision, she recognized as Moonstone brushed a spider off her coarse, brown, wool dress. A tall Inca stood at the opening of the barrack, his spear glinting in the firelight. Cuva stepped forth and spoke to him, her rapid Inca sounding like cool water falling through the mountain. The bronze man nodded, his flattened cranium darkened by the veil of darkness. Cuva motioned to the two young women.

"This is your barrack. Come here every day once I dismiss you, understood?"

When Miriam and Moonstone nodded, the Inca woman waddled off into the darkness, heading towards the lights that adorned the large Acahuana house.

The large man looked down on them, "Follow me."

He disappeared into the barrack, bowing his head as he passed through the opening as not to hurt himself on the head. Miriam and Moonstone ducked as well as they passed under the door.

The barrack was simple. A large fire roared in the middle, various slaves adding and stirring to a large cauldron that stood in the center. Hide covered doors lined the sides of the barrack, leading to small chambers. Nothing but the cauldron and the roaring fire was to be seen in the center area, no one stood but the slaves that cared for the food, and but simple mats decked the sandy ground. Pausing for a moment, the guard looked around him at the many hides. Miriam looked at Moonstone and saw the same fear she felt reflected in the white haired woman's eyes. The Inca guard roughly grabbed Miriam by the shoulder and shoved her into a chamber, "You will stay here; this is your sleeping and living quarter. You are not to come out under any circumstances. Working will commence once the permission to emerge from the chambers is given."

"Wait! What about Moonstone…her?" Miriam cried, struggling to keep the hide open. The guard frowned, "She will go to another chamber. This is for you and him."

The hide closed resolutely as Miriam chanced one last smile at Moonstone. The slightly tan hide stared at Miriam in the face, covering the world from sight and dimming the light.

Brushing a fleck of dust off her coarse wool dress, Miriam frowned; the guard had said…him? Miriam felt her hands turn cold at the though of sharing a chamber with an unknown man. Turning slowly, her braid falling over her shoulder, Miriam peered into the depth of the room. No windows where visible on the walls and the only source of light came from the fire that roared at the center of the barrack. A small mat lay on the ground, a hard cushion providing the only comfort. The silhouette on the mat moaned softly as it stirred. Miriam halted, fear registering on her face as the figure moved. He was tall; his feet fell of the edge of the mat. His face was contorted in pain as he shifted his weight. Placing one foot in front of the other, Miriam craned her neck forward, trying to make out the figure in the darkness that invaded the room. A soft gasp escaped her lips as the light caught the face of the young man, "André!"

André lifted his head, his eyes blindly searching for the source of the voice. Miriam rushed over to his side, dropping to the floor beside the mat. Brushing her stray tendrils of hair behind her ears, she gently took André's hand in her own, "André?"

His coal black hair fell on the hard cushion as he shifted his face and turned his crystal blue eyes to Miriam, "Did they hurt you?"

Miriam stared at André in disbelief, "Hurt _me_? They beat you, they kicked you, they made you bleed! I…I didn't come close…I didn't help you…" Miriam suddenly let go of André's hand and allowed her face to collapse into her hands.

His face worried, André cupped his hand underneath Miriam's chin, lifting her face towards his, "Good."

"Don't talk, I'll get some water and wipe your wounds…it is the least I can do for you," Miriam whispered, resting his hand on the mat. André smiled, followed quickly by pain as the cut on his lip opened again, allowing the blood to flow. Miriam's brow contorted with sympathy as she stood, her dress lightly brushing the coarse ground.

André's blue eyes followed her as she strode over to the lit entrance and hesitantly removed the hide with her long fingers. Looking back once at him, the smile foreign on her lips, she disappeared into the fire lit barrack center. André turned over on the mat, his body aching all over. The blood had stopped flowing from his lips, but the bruises of black and blue which covered his chest and back were enough to make him wince as he moved. He couldn't bear to see Miriam so sad. The reason, however, was not a mystery to him; Miriam believed her brother dead, and seeing André bruised and aching must have reminded her of Chris. André sighed and closed his eyes briefly as voices drifted through the covered doorway.

Light flowed into the small room momentarily as Miriam removed the hide. She carried a pail full of water in one hand and a cloth in the other. Her eyes were clouded as she hurried over to the small, hard mat, her bare feet lifting small clouds of dust off the ground. Absentmindedly tucking a tendril of her chocolate brown hair behind her ear, she set down the bucket and ducked the cloth into the cold water as she kneeled beside André.

"Don't move; this might hurt a bit. The water won't help much to disinfect the wounds but it is the most that I can do in these circumstances…" babbled Miriam as she wrung the cloth.

"How did you get a bucket of water and that cloth?" asked André, frowning. He really didn't remember the last time the Incas had cared enough about their slaves to give them a bucket full of precious water and a cloth.

Miriam avoided André's eyes as she muttered her answer, "Um…well…were does it hurt? Is your lip still bleeding?"

"Don't change the subject. You took the bucket without permission, didn't you?"

Still Miriam evaded his eyes, "Your lip is bleeding again, let me…"

"Miriam…"

"Alright! Yes, I did take it without asking, but I hardly doubt someone will miss it; it was off to a side, in a darkened corner of the chamber! Now, will you let wipe that blood off your face, or do you enjoy it there?"

André grinned, "Actually, amazingly I do not enjoy blood on my face, it happens very rarely, usually it the others who have the blood on their face."

"So you admit to frequently beating people to a state similar to your right now, pirate?" Miriam muttered darkly as she dabbed the wet cloth over André's lip.

"I never beat anyone that didn't deserve it. What about the cloth, was it lying around conveniently as well?" André changed the subject, wincing at the pain caused by his lip.

"No," retorted Miriam, dropping the cloth back in the bucket before wringing it once again.

André lifted himself lightly from the bed, his body aching as his muscles stretched, "Miriam! You ripped the cloth from your dress!"

Miriam glanced briefly at the bottom side of her dress, where a small chunk was missing; the fabric bordering the missing part was frayed and tattered. Shrugging it off, she pushed André back onto the mat and began wiping a cut on his forearm.

André grinned, his smile so like his father's breaking the darkness, "I'm touched by your devotion."

Miriam snorted, "Devotion to what? Keeping a human alive? I'm doing what I would have done for anyone."

"That hurt Miriam. Here I was, thinking that you had finally accepted that I'm your friend and not an unwanted…OUCH!" André attempted to squirm away from Miriam as she scrubbed the cut forcefully.

"Moving will just make it worse, as well as aggravate your bruises. I suspect that you might have broken a rib, but I'm not sure…it really doesn't seem like it; maybe it is just a bigger bruise than the rest of them. Stop it, André! I have to make sure the wounds are clean, we don't want them to get infected!"

André stopped moving and closed his eyes as Miriam finished cleaning his many injuries.

Miriam looked up from where she was softly wiping a rough cut on André's side, her braid, now mostly undone, tumbling over her shoulder. André laid peacefully, his handsome face still and his eyelids hiding his lagoon blue eyes. Miriam felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as her eyes strayed over his face. He had called her from the quarry. André had protected her since Chris had left her…before Chris had left her. He had defended her from the dark skinned slave master, twice and from Acahuana and Urcon's intentions. In the jungle, in the Amazon he had fed her in her shock, yet all she had ever had for this young man lying in the mat in front of her were glares and angry replies. Miriam lowered her head once more and moved to another cut.

Chris's death had left her hollow inside. They had been too close. The death too sudden and quick. Miriam hadn't even seen it coming until it was too late; _managi_ rarely killed anyone. But André had been there as well. She hadn't drowned in her misery because of him. André was a pirate, son of Jack Sparrow, who was probably one of the most feared and roguish pirate to ever sail Caribbean waters, and Miriam owned him possibly her life. Yet there were many differences from the Captain Sparrow she had been told about and the pirate breathing softly on the Inca mat. Sparrow was said to be a disloyal, cheating, drunk man. Never once had she seen André drink a drop of rum, wine or whisky, nor did he appear to be a cheater. Miriam looked up at André's face once more, and felt something she hadn't felt before. André kept his promises. He was polite, not crude, and refrained from behavior his father would be accredited for. There was a world of a difference between Jack Sparrow and André Sparrow. Their only point in common was the last name they both shared.

André's quiet breathing lifted a stray tendril of his coal black hair. Gently, hesitantly, Miriam reached out, carefully brushing the tendril onto the hard cushion André used as a pillow. Before she could react, André's hand reached out, holding hers tightly. Miriam sensed fear take over her as she acknowledged that she had known André for little over three weeks and he could easily be exactly like his father but a very god actor. André opened his eyes immediately and Miriam saw a glimmer of something that looked like fear pass through his bright blue eyes. Focusing, his eyes came to rest on Miriam, and he immediately released her hand.

"I'm sorry, Miriam, I thought you were my father," said André concerned, sinking back into the mat.

Miriam looked up at him, and noticed that his soft blue eyes never left her face, "Me too."

André's face was pained for a moment, "I am not my father," he looked at her once more, "why? I thought that you never met him…you didn't know him…"

Miriam stood up, leaving the bucket and cloth in a corner of the room before sitting down once more, but this time farther from André, "I don't know him. I met him once, when I was five, I think I already told you. Yet…your father is famous, André. I have heard many things about him."

"What? Why did you think I was him?" André asked softly.

Miriam's eyes never left the hide door directly in front of her, "Your father is a pirate. He is the most feared pirate that has ever sailed. They naturally say many things about him. They say things about his talent at evading the navy, but they also talk of his obvious preference of rum…" Miriam's voice faded to a whisper, "and many other things."

"Miriam…he's not my father. He might have created me, but I cannot be his son if his only wish is to kill me and see me dead. I lived with him five short years, nothing more."

André gazed over at Miriam's silent form, but she didn't move.

"I am André, Miriam. The person who is talking to you right now is not Jack Sparrow, but André! Why must I always be treated ill and prosecuted for my father's crimes? Why! Tell me Miriam!" André had risen from the bed and looked down at Miriam, his blue eyes flashing with anger and pain. Miriam's eyes left the door to stray on André's face, her features turning to stone as his voice rose. She stood as well, so his height would not overwhelm her. They said nothing for a minute, André's anger vibrating in his brilliant blue eyes while Miriam's face reflected nothing.

"Don't scream at me, André. I am not at fault that you wish to differ from your father," said Miriam, her eyes impassive.

André's eyes lost their anger and faced the mat, his back to her, "I'm sorry, Miriam. I just…I am very different from my father…very different," turning slowly he gently wrapped his arms around Miriam and brought her towards him, softly settling her head on his shoulder. Miriam didn't protest, instead she hesitantly settled her arms around his neck. "Miriam, I will never harm you. Until the day I die I will protect you. I owe it to your father, my Captain, and Chris…but most of all, I owe it to you."

André tensed, waiting for Miriam's outburst at his actions. But it didn't come. He waited for what seemed like an hour and yet it didn't come. Miriam rested, her head on his shoulder, her breathing slow and calm.

Miriam's instinct told her to slap André across the face and yell at him that he was just like his father…but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She felt protected and safe in his strong, but bruised arms. Chris was now gone, no one could be a brother to her anymore, but André wouldn't be a brother even if someone could take that spot. He was the friend she needed and she felt more comfort than she ever had wrapped in his arms. Lazily, Miriam opened her eyes; her mind was peaceful and content. Until she saw her arms around André's shoulders. Giving a start, Miriam let go immediately and pulled out of André's arms, shaking her head and not daring to meet André's eyes.

"André…I…I am so sorry, I didn't mean to…what I mean is that…" she stuttered, wrapping her arms around herself. How could she have been so stupid! André? He was…Why had she wrapped her arms around _him_? He was André Sparrow, and how could it have ever occurred to her? Miriam felt like committing suicide, she had never felt more embarrassed in her life.

André's voice cut across her thoughts, "I'm sorry…um…"

Miriam immediately changed the subject, "It is getting late, isn't? Shouldn't we go to sleep? We might have to wake up early tomorrow and…"

"Oh, and you have to eat, don't you?" asked André, lying down on the mat.

Miriam nodded eagerly, "Yes, that too. What is there for dinner?" Miriam asked on a calmer note, curious.

André made a grimace, "Not exactly what you call the greatest meal. I think it was supposed to be a fruit stew, probably the weirdest thing I ever tasted."

Miriam looked taken back, "Fruit stew?"

André grinned at the expression on her face, "Not the most appetizing thing after a day of starvation, isn't it?"

"No, not exactly…wait a minute," Miriam murmured, squinting around the room, "Is there only _one_ bed?"

André sat up and scanned the room as well, but there where no shadows or shapes apart from the pail of water that indicated any mat or bed. Miriam felt the heat rising into her cheeks as thought over her options of sleeping on a mat. Behind her, André shifted uncomfortably.

"I'll sleep on the floor," he voiced, his tone careless.

Miriam didn't dare look at him.

"I think they are turning the fire out, you better eat before it is too late. You are already way too slender to lose more weight," André commented, as the firelight on the other side of the hide diminished progressively.

Throwing her undone braid over her shoulder, Miriam glanced at the door briefly and nodded, "I'll eat and then come and sleep, on the floor."

"What?"

Miriam turned around and looked at André. He was sitting on the side of the mat, his loose white blouse tied fallen around his waist, his black pants holding it in place. André's visage wore an unfathomable expression, his blue eyes fogged as he looked over Miriam, his usual roguish grin replaced by a serious air.

"You can't sleep on the floor. If your rib is broken, a hard surface on your back will worsen your state. Not to mention the bruises, and the dust will contaminate and possibly infect your cuts, an infection in these conditions can very easily led to death and I hardly think that sleeping on the floor because you believe that I am a prissy lady of high society that cannot even think of spending a night on the floor is a good reason to kill yourself. I am a pirate just like you; I have raided cities and assaulted ships, I can very well sleep on the floor."

André held up his hands in defense, but his eyes tinkled in amusement, "I never said that you were a noble or that you couldn't sleep on the floor because you would break like porcelain. I was just being a considerate being."

Miriam rolled her eyes, "For once."

André grinned, "You're a very harsh pirate."

"I must have learned it from you," Miriam smiled back sweetly.

André laughed as he lay back down on the mat and closed his eyes. Taking the conversation for finished, Miriam left the room quietly.

When she was laying on the floor and beginning to nod off into sleep she recognized that André had been right about one thing.

The fruit stew was absolutely repulsing.

o o o

Thunder boomed in the distance and dark clouds covered the Swann mansion. Rain tittered on the large windows, creating an ever present background to the silence that reigned. The antechamber to Elizabeth Turner's chamber was dimly light by two oil lamps. Will paced the small chamber, his hands behind his back and his handsome face drawn from lack of sleep. The dim lights cast shadows and yellow light on him as he regained his sleep, his chocolate eyes never leaving the large oak door in front of him. Whispers and murmurs came from within, but the noise was muted by the door and dense humid air.

"Still no news?" asked a voice from behind.

Will turned around quickly in his seat to find himself faced by Jack Sparrow. Glancing over the pirate briefly, Will turned his attention back to the double doors that hid Elizabeth from him, "Oh, it's just you."

Jack looked over Will worriedly, "Mate, have you eaten anything since yesterday?"

Will didn't answer, his eyes hypnotized.

"Will," Jack said a little louder, "Will, answer me."

Still Will said nothing.

Jack grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back, looking deeply into his eyes, "Good God, mate, you're killing yourself! Come and eat dinner, your cook has the best meals I have had in a long time…"

Will interrupted Jack by eagerly pointing to the door, "Jack! Did you hear that?"

Jack frowned, "What?"

Will stood up and kept on pointing agitatedly towards Elizabeth's chamber, "Elizabeth! Did you just hear…Again! She just said it again! She's telling us that she's fine and that the baby is born and well! Come on Jack! We need to go tell her how much we've missed her…"

Jack's eyes widened and he shook his head slowly, his beads clicking together. Taking Will's arm in his he steered them towards the other door, "Okay, Will, mate, I think we've been in this room long enough. It is time to eat and sleep a little."

Will struggled to escape from Jack's grip, "No! I need to go see her, I need to…"

"Yes, I am aware that you need to sleep, now, if you would stop struggling, we might get to the kitchen sooner and stuff something down your throat in the next three minutes."

Will didn't seem to have heard in his fight to regain Elizabeth's side, but he was weak, and before they had reached the stairs, Will collapsed.

"I'm losing it Jack," he murmured.

Jack looked back at Will and nodded, "I always told you that you loved that lass too much for your own good."

"I don't think I'll live if she…"

"Dies? Have an optimistic view of things, don't you?"

"Jack, it is not funny, I…I don't feel very well," Will croaked, his face pale.

Jack stopped immediately and looked back at his friend, "Will, you can't get sick, you haven't eaten anything since she went into labor, yesterday."

"I…I…oh god, I feel something…" Will bent over, promptly vomiting on the flowing Arabic carpet under his feet.

"Oh, Will…oh. That was a really nice carpet, I was even thinking of taking it along with me as a souvenir. Will, why not on the tiles? When you're done, you're going to have to get me another one of those," moaned Jack, looking at the damage done to the finely adorned red and black carpet.

Once in the kitchen, the maid served a large dinner for both men, including a large bottle of rum at Sparrow's protests. Will ate quickly and furtively, finishing his meal half an hour before Jack. When Jack had gulped down the last drip of rum from the bottle, Will was already fast asleep in his chair. Jack smiled; he knew that Will would fall asleep if left long enough in his seat after a full meal. Nodding at the maid to pick up the plates he carried Will up to the guest chamber, his chambers, being the same as Elizabeth's now occupied. Upon laying down on the bed, Will grabbed Jack's hand.

"Jack, promise me that you will find Chris and Miriam if Elizabeth was to die."

"Will, I hardly think she will die…I mean, well, the doctors haven't left the room since they went in, isn't that a good sign?" attempted Jack.

"Promise me Jack, tell them that mother and father loved them, very much, and that we are proud of whatever they will become."

"Mate, don't say things like that. You aren't going to die, and neither is Elizabeth!" pushed Jack, alarmed by Will's wish.

"Promise me, Jack!"

Jack looked at Will. The man's face was pale and the bags under his eyes were deep with lack of sleep. Yet there was so much love in those dark eyes as he spoke of his wife and children. Somewhere deep inside of him, Jack knew that Will wouldn't survive if his wife was taken from him. For a second Jack felt a pang of jealousy. He had never known what it felt like to be loved beyond everything; he had never felt the confidence Will had that his children loved him… André didn't love him. André had escaped from him, had accused him of murder, and now, looking at Will's face, he realized that this was the reason that he chased his only son all over the world; he wanted André to love him like a father, look at him the same way that Chris might look at Will.

"I promise you Will."

Will smiled as he collapsed back into slumber, his drawn face relaxing from its deep wound. As Jack closed the door to the chamber behind him he halted as he understood why he had never felt the love of a wife nor a son. He hadn't shown them how it felt to be loved.

**A/N: There you go. Long chapter and I have the next one ready to post! But…I need some reviews to complete the first Author's note…so…REVIEW:) Remember those famous 3Rs : Review, Review and REVIEW! What do you think of the biased view André holds of his father? What about the hated image Miriam holds of him? No flames for it; Jack is the best, but I want there to be tension:) What do you think?**


	11. Whispers in the Dark

**A/N: 50! Throw the balloons, let go of the confetti, I have reached 50 reviews! I have got to be the happiest person in this galaxy! This a great honor for me and firstly, I would like to thank my loyal reviewers who have been with me from the beginning and all the reviewers that have put in a review, however small…and I sound like I just won an Oscar. lol! This chapter is for you guys, you deserve it!**

**Vampirehelsing: Okay, let´s just say that I did imagine it sounds like a seal and not what it looks like. lol! You really were hyper! I completely agree with you as you saw in the last chapter that Will would die if Elizabeth did. I mean, he seriously loves her too much...well...I wouldn´t mind if someone loved me that much but... :) Pat yourself on the back; we made it to 50!**

**Mysterious-muse: Man, 50 reviews feels great, when you reach it in a couple chapters you´ll agree with me :) Your stories are really good, and I am enjoying them a lot. So don´t you dare even think of stopping:) You got it right about the deep emotions, I´m glad you understood it and didn´t think that everyone just lost it. Jack is the only one who appears not to be very emotional, but as we saw the end, he is hiding a lot of feelings inside him...um...how much time until he explodes? Hehehe...**

**Rose of Shade: I can imagine you lauging your head of in the most intense moments of the last chapter, you´re just special that way :) I´m sorry I can´t call you, but I kind of don´t have your phone #, yeah, kind of a stupid problem, but that is my life; I break open my head with a plate and twist my ankle tripping over a maniquin. Anyways, next time you see Ricky, tell him I said hi, and if he doesn´t remember who I am, remind him :) Have a great summer and hopefully I´ll see you before band camp when I get back!**

**Smithy: You´re a lot like me, I love happy stories too, but the problem is that there needs to be tension :) These 50 reviews are thanks to you, so pat yourself on the back and go eat some choclate...if you don´t like chocolate you can eat something else, as long as you like it:) Enjoy this chapter!**

**Uscrocks: NEW REVIWER! It seems like the new reviewers never stay very long, or they find that writing reviews is boring and stop, don´t let that happen to you, your comments are very appreciated! By the way, go buy yourself something, beacuse you are the person who pushed the 49 to 50! Yeah, sorry, I´m a little too obsessive with reviews, but don´t worry, I´ll shut up and let you read this chapter after a quick disclaimer :)**

**Disclaimer: How could I own Pirates of the Carribbean and be writing this story instead of scuba diving in Fiji? Come on, be realistic, however, the Incas, Miriam, André, Chris and other things you have never heard of before. Now, I present, chapter 10, even though technically it is chapter 11, but I´ll solve that later.**

Chapter X: Whispers in the Dark

The sun rose early, its rays of warmth flowing through the valley. The Andes breathed easily as the moon faded in the sky to nothing. Shimmering stars lost their glimmer and disappeared before the moon had begun to fade. Life arose from the Inca city, the tall temple that stood proudly in the center retracting the sun's light into various homes. Llamas were taken to the hills to graze, passing once at the silver river to drink from the icy waters. Men left on the Inca trail, to look for food in the Amazon. Swooping down from the ancient mountains, the condor silently crossed the city, his beady eyes tenderly overlooking his charge as he landed on the temple top. Through all this waking life, the slaves worked. Women cleaned the Inca mansions, followed the llama herders, traded for fruit and food in the market, and swept the streets. Men labored under the powerful sun, their picks, hammers and chisels rising in unison before they fell harshly against the rocks that surrounded them. The sun climbed its way up the dome of the sky, fearful it would pass noon too soon.

Miriam sat opposite of Moonstone. The _chicha_ room was small. It was a bare room, a small open window off to one side. In the center stood a giant terracotta jar, as tall as Miriam's shoulders. To either side of each young woman was situated a woven basket, filled to the rim with _maize_ kernels. Moonstone took her radiant long hair and tied it in a knot to keep it out of her eyes before turning to Miriam.

"So, do you think someone is going to show up and tell us what in the hell we are supposed to do with this huge jar and these baskets of…yellow things?" Moonstone wrinkled her nose at the _maize_ kernels.

Miriam leaned back on her hands, "Maybe they expect us to figure it out by ourselves."

"That wouldn't be surprising, as we are supposed to possess immense knowledge about everything," snorted Moonstone.

"Don't start," warned Miriam.

Moonstone laughed, her green eyes dancing, "Afraid that the old matron is going to show up and take away or next ration?"

"Remember that she didn't take away mine," cleared Miriam.

Moonstone rolled her eyes, "Yes, I am aware of the old angry nurse with no life hates me for no reason at all, apart from the fact that I am twenty million times more attractive than her ratty black hair and beady black eyes. With a face like that she looks like an angry cockroach!"

"That was cruel. You are lucky that she didn't walk in when you were finishing," commented Miriam, nodding towards the hide covered door.

The white haired young woman didn't look disturbed as she curiously poked the _maize_ kernels, "Changing the subject, how did you sleep?"

Miriam turned to look out the window, towards the Andes, "Oh, very well."

"Was there anyone is your room?" commented Moonstone casually, but Miriam could heard the eagerness behind her comment.

"Yes, actually, there was."

Moonstone perked up, "Male or female?"

"Was that really necessary?" asked Miriam

"There was someone in my room as well, but unfortunately only one bed, how about you?"

Miriam resigned to looking out the window and turned to face Moonstone, "You really aren't going to give up until you know everything that happens in this valley, aren't you?"

Moonstone's flawless face broke into a grin, "No."

Miriam frowned, "There isn't anything important to say; I was in the same room as André. He slept on the mat, as he was not in the best of conditions, and I slept on the floor. It wasn't that bad though."

Moonstone' emerald green eyes glittered, "André?"

"The one that got beat at the quarry…" Miriam murmured, feeling hot all of the sudden.

"That was one handsome young man and if you are not interested in him I might just have a go at him…but you two are together, aren't you?" asked Moonstone relaxed.

"We absolutely are not together at all. You can go at him all you like, he's only my friend, and that is what he will always be," retorted Miriam, angry at Moonstone's suggestion.

"Hey, is he alright after what happened to him yesterday?"

"Yes, he's fine. But what about you? Who was your roommate?" asked Miriam, directing the conversation away from her.

"Um…well…you see…"

But Moonstone was saved from answering by the swish of the hide door. Cuva stepped into the chamber, setting her wrinkled hands on her stocky figure. Her small black eyes, hidden under the wrinkles on her forehead, traveled around the room, stopping on Moonstone and Miriam at last.

"What is this?" Cuva asked, waving her hand to compromise everything in the room.

"We were awaiting instructions," explained Miriam before Moonstone could open her mouth.

It took Cuva a minute to answer, "You not know how to make _chicha_ drink?"

This time, Moonstone was faster than Miriam, "Nope."

Cuva glared at the white haired young woman, her lips stretching into a thin line. "Insolent girl, you shall have half a ration today also for your arrogance!" came her sharp reply.

Moonstone's muscles tensed, but then something happened behind her eyes and she smiled, "Very well, I shall inform them of this restriction."

Cuva swelled with fury, "No ration at all today, for you."

Moonstone's face remained content, "As you wish."

The elderly Inca didn't move as she analyzed the situation. Her black eyes sought Miriam, resting on her face for treachery. Finding none she moved forward and turned her glare towards the inside of the great terracotta jar.

"_Chicha_ drink easy to make. Must chew handful of _maize_ and then spit into jar when it is pulp in your mouth. When sun sets, there must a whole jar of chicha drink. It needs to be left a few days before drunk on _Inti Ramyi_," finished Cuva, resuming her position of control. Her glare traveling over the two slaves to see if they understood, she waddled out of the small room. The sound of the soles of her feet hitting the ground was heard walking away as it faded into the distance.

Satisfied that the Inca had left, Miriam turned on Moonstone, her eyes hard, "What were you thinking? If your pride will step in the way of your necessity to eat, I suggest you escape, as you will not live very long."

Moonstone ignored Miriam, looking around her at the large basket of maize kernels beside her.

"Why this madness?" pressed Miriam.

The knot of straight white hair undid itself as Moonstone turned, shoving a handful of maize into her mouth, "I have another way to feed myself, alright? Now work, the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can talk all we want."

Miriam didn't seem convinced by Moonstone's answer, but nevertheless tossed a handful of golden yellow kernels in her mouth and began chewing. The terracotta jar ringed as Moonstone regurgitated the kernels, now a pulp of _maize_ and saliva.

o o o

The day passed slowly, the sun inching its way across the sky. Slaves milled through the streets and women washed clothes at the river bank. The soft trickling of the crystal stream was overpowered by the cry of the lone condor that perched on the top of the temple, offering the city to the gods. Shadows grew as the sun descended down the sky slowly. Clouds crawled lazily over the whispering city, momentarily offering views of the sun. The valley spoke in an ancient language, the mountains conversing through the earth and hiding their offspring from the view of those who would have them dead.

Miriam could no longer feel her jaw. Only the subtle crushing noise informed her of the kernels disintegrating her mouth. The red afternoon sun shone through the small open window, turning Moonstone's hair a radiant orange. Through the poor lighting, Miriam could see the large terracotta jar. Hours and minutes had passed and finally the jar was full of regurgitated _maize_.

"Oh, god, I can't feel my mouth," moaned Moonstone.

Miriam let herself fall on the floor, her wavy hair spreading around her. "I think that your reasoning this morning was not in vain; I hardly think I'll be able to swallow anything tonight," she commented, staring at the ceiling.

"I still can't believe that someone is going to drink our spit."

Miriam let out a chuckle, "I find that idea repulsing. Remember not to drink anything but water on _Inti Ramyi_."

"You got that right," commented Moonstone and lay down on her back, coping Miriam.

They didn't move for various minutes, their mouth aching too much to talk. The red sun colored the room a red-orange, luring the two young women to sleep. A shadow passed the window momentarily as the condor flew by, to disappear into the Andes for the dark night.

"We should go to barracks," came Moonstone's voice.

"I know," responded Miriam, not interested at all in getting up.

"I'm getting up now."

"Sure you are."

"This time I'm not joking, I really am getting up."

"So am I."

They stood, with a little difficulty. All day they had sat cross-legged on the sandy floor, now leaving their lower body and back cramped. Moonstone shook herself like a dog out of water and strode to the door. Miriam followed, adjusting her coarse brown dress as she walked.

The halls of the mansion were deserted; Miriam and Moonstone walked alone. They passed many chambers. Music flowed softly from one, and upon looking through the open doorway they found Acahuana's eldest daughter playing serenely on the pipes. Miriam smiled as the girl trilled a high note. Her flowing black hair fell like a river on her back and her beautiful brown eyes closed peacefully as she emitted the eerie ancient music. She was tall and Miriam found herself wondering why the girl, who must have been 16 or 17, was not yet married off to a rich lord. With her being the second eldest of all Acahuana's children she was sure to be a very eligible bride. They left the slender girl and walked on, Moonstone tying her amazingly straight, white hair into a knot at the back of her head. The chambers were silent and the music could still be heard faintly as they turned through the stone halls. Clamor reached their ears and Moonstone pointed mutely towards another room. Laughter and cries erupted from the chamber. When Miriam looked in, her wavy brown hair swishing, her eyes opened wide. Acahuana's younger daughters played together, dolls and llamas of terracotta their toys. Two smiling young Inca women sewed happily by, watching the children play, talking rapidly to each other and laughing often. While she was still looking at the children, Miriam felt as Moonstone grabbed her arm, dragging her away from the room.

"Moonstone, what the…" whispered Miriam.

But her answer came in the sound of male voices. Both young women started retreating down the hall, quietly and deftly. They didn't want to be caught somewhere they shouldn't be; André's beating yesterday had served lesson enough to what might happen. The voices drew closer and closer, Miriam and Moonstone walking quickly away. Suddenly Moonstone halted, Miriam pausing beside her and looking down the length of the hall. Three young men emerged from the intersecting hall, all Incas and, as far as Miriam could tell, all lords or rich heirs by their many jewels and brightly colored dress. Moonstone gasped beside her, "Acahuana!"

Miriam turned to look at Moonstone, confused, as none of the men coming towards them were lord Acahuana, "Who?"

"Acahuana, the eldest son of Lord Acahuana," explained Moonstone rapidly as they began walking down the hall towards them, towards the door to the outside.

"Who are the other two?" asked Miriam, amazed at Moonstone's sudden knowledge of the Inca.

Moonstone shrugged, "How am supposed to know? They are probably rich lords, either way they are really handsome but not as…"

The three Incas were drawing nearer, and Moonstone cut off her sentence. Miriam thought her wise; being lords, the young men would surely know their language. Unlike many Inca, Acahuana was tall, his shoulders broad. His jet black hair was drawn back with a brown leather strap, and his brown eyes so like his sister's now playing on the pipes looking at Moonstone apparently in shock.

"Miriam, I want you to go to the barrack alone, I need to do something," whispered Moonstone in her ear.

Miriam looked at Moonstone, frowning, "What do you need to do?"

Moonstone smiled, her green eyes sparkling, "Beg the old matron for my ration."

Miriam turned her glance back at the young men to find that only Acahuana remained, the other two lords disappearing outside, "Why do this alone?"

Moonstone laughed, "Cause that cockroach hates me, and I will probably have to beg; I really don't fancy you seeing Captain Moonstone on her knees begging for food."

Miriam nodded, but was doubtful of Moonstone's excuse. Nevertheless, she left towards the door, while Moonstone disappeared beyond the moss covered stone hall.

Darkness had claimed the high valley, the mountains dark silhouettes against the dark blue sky. The waning moon shone silver light over the stone houses of the Inca, partially hidden by the imposing peak of _Huayna Picchu_. Miriam emerged from the stone structure into the vast gardens of the _ayllu_. Vines hiked the low stone fences, erupting in bloom with a mix of white and blue. Small trees hid the private area of the garden from unwanted eyes while red hummingbirds rested the night inside the small twig nests. Miriam halted, closing her eyes to let the sound of the night surround her. The cicadas chirred, their loud music creating a backdrop of constant droning. The soft wind billowed through the trees, shaking the leaves. The soft sound of whispers filled the dark.

Miriam opened her eyes, turning her head slightly at the sound of soft voices. She strained her ears to hear what they whispered about in the dead of night. Eavesdropping was a practice her mother would advise against; if two people spoke together in whispers, they wished not to be disturbed, and in doing so, you infringed their right for privacy. However, thought Miriam smiling, her father would press her to listen. He would agree that to live longer, your knowledge must be wide and whispers in the dark were things which might help one survive. Miriam pressed her face against the bushes of the gardens and remained immobilized as the voiced drifted towards her waiting ears.

"Why must we speak in this filthy language used by only the slaves?" asked a cold female voice.

"Precisely for that reason; no one will hear us. These things we discuss are things which we do not wish to fall into the wrong ears. Furthermore, I am your husband and you will do as I command, there is no argument in this," proclaimed a male voice, which sounded familiar to Miriam's ears.

"You may command everyone, but never me," hissed the female voice.

"Silence, we do not have much time, the plan must be carried out before _Inti Ramyi_. Only then can we be the sun, as the gods have proclaimed it."

"He stands in your way, and he does not trust you, my husband," the female spoke words like ice that chilled Miriam.

"He will not stand very long, I have the person for the job designed and the deed is a question of time."

"They will suspect you before all, with no gain, as his son will rise, not us."

"There are many ways to manage a man his age," the male voice insinuated.

"Don't be too sure, he is stronger than he appears," countered the eerie female voice.

"With his father dead he is nothing. I will rise, and we will become the sun."

"Do not plan to manage it all, there are many ways your plan can fail."

"You forget your place, Chic'ya! I will not fail; I have waited too long for this moment, and it has finally come," the male voice rose.

Miriam gasped. Chic'ya was Urcon's wife. The two talking were Urcon and Chic'ya. She felt as cold gripped her body, freezing her in place at Urcon's next words.

"Quiet! Did you hear that?" Urcon demanded of his cold wife.

Miriam quickly put a hand over her mouth and attempted to slow her breathing.

Chic'ya's voice was hesitant but icy, "No."

Miriam knew that she had to move, but her body was frozen, and there was nowhere to hide. The wind brought to her the sound of Urcon's whisper. Her ears strained to make sense of the whisper, but failed. The cicadas seemed to cease their chirping in the night as Miriam heard the soft sound of feet on the ground coming towards her.

Urcon appeared from behind a tree, his black eyes slits in the dark. Chic'ya backed him, her magnificent beauty enhanced by the moon's silver light. They listened, aware of ever sound that broke through the silence that the still cicadas had created. Urcon leaned forward, his eyes looking over the bushes and trees. No one could have seen them, no one could have understood him; no one should have been in the gardens.

Miriam felt her heart skip a beat as Urcon stared directly at her. His black eyes passed over her hair, eyes, nose, mouth, neck, shoulders and body. She closed her eyes, not knowing what to expect from a man who worried to keep his words in secret. If he suspected she had heard, she might keep the secret in her grave. Urcon's eyes bore into her, and she braced herself for what would follow.

Urcon turned his eyes from the bush and shifted them up into the trees. Chic'ya was silent, not even her quiet breathing could be told apart from the night. They waited for two minutes, the moonlight casting their long shadows on the bushes and trees in front of them. Then, the cicadas once again resumed their nighttime chant. Urcon turned back with a sweep of his cloak, motioning Chic'ya to follow.

"Did someone hear?" asked Chic'ya coolly.

Urcon looked around him once more, as if to clear from his mind any doubts, "No, I mistook the wind."

"You are tense," noticed the young woman, her beauty ice.

"I will decide what I am or am not," retorted Urcon with the same hostility.

"What will we do with him?" asked Chic'ya, a red glint appearing in her eyes.

Urcon lifted his face to the moon and Miriam saw a thin lipped smile stretch on his lips, "Kill him."

o o o

Miriam's brown hair whipped in the wind. She did not remember ever having run as fast as she did now, the carefully kept grass flying below her racing bare feet. Death was not something new to her. Carefully planned murder was. She was a pirate, not a killer; treasure and freedom where her goals, not the end of someone's life. Yet, out of all the conversation, Urcon, himself, frightened her the most. His face as he spoke those two simple words was etched in her mind. The lifeless smile that had stretched on his pale lips, his upturned face, offering himself to the gods above. Miriam shook her head, begging the wind that bellowed in her ears to erase her mind of the words she shouldn't have heard. If Urcon was to murder it was not her affair. He was cold-blooded, and if murdering a governor for power or a rich uncle for money was what he did, then she would forget those words and turn her head if news of the murder ever came to her ears. She knew that Urcon had murdered before. It was his way of talking, his silent smile that was more frightening than death; he had killed before and would do so again.

The barrack hummed with whispers as Miriam barged through the door, careful, however, not to attract attention. Her precautions were not necessary. The many slaves milled around the center of the barrack, their faces full of fear in the firelight. Inca guards stood imposing, keeping the slaves from the fire and from their hide closed chambers. As soon as she entered, a guard pushed her roughly into the crowd. A voice roared over the barrack. Curious, Miriam fought through the crowd finally emerging to the front.

She didn't expect the scene before her. André stood in the middle of the barrack, his hands tied behind his back while two strong Inca guards held in tightly on both sides. Miriam felt her stomach drop as she saw the fire held a hot poker.

"This man has infringed upon the confines of his slavery," boomed a large Inca. André didn't move, but continued instead to watch the hot embers of the fire warm the poker warily.

"He has attacked an Inca and will therefore be punished for his audacity."

The Incas holding André neared him to the fire. He struggled in vain, his bright blue eyes wide as he approached the hot fire.

"Let this serve as a lesson to all slaves. You will not rebel, for the first to lift a finger will receive, as this low slave here, the mark of the sun."

The room was quiet; as everyone leaned forward to see the Incas drag André forward, oblivious to his protests.

"Whoa, steady with that thing," André's eyes were locked with the white-hot poker being brought towards him.

The Incas glared at him for silence. Miriam inched forward, attempting to get pass a guard without success. The guard warned her not to approach, attracting the attention of the room towards her. André's coal black hair swished as he turned to look at her. When their eyes met his face broke into a grin, white teeth flashing in the light. Yet his attention was once again distracted from her as the poker drew nearer to him and he struggled more forcefully, attempting to reduce the heat of the poker by blowing on it. The slaves around Miriam stared as André suddenly kicked an Inca guard, causing him to bend over in pain. André rushed to escape, but didn't get very far as he was tackled by three guards. They struggled for a moment, but André was outnumbered and with his hands tied behind his back the fight was lost before it even began. André was immobilized. They stood him up, ripping off this white blouse to expose his tan chest. The poker advanced slowly, waiting for André to cry, scream or beg mercy. But no words emerged from André's mouth. His handsome face was impassive, only his wide eyes showed any emotion. A young slave woman beside Miriam shed a tear for him.

"He will be reduced to a crying screaming child before they are done with him."

Miriam turned on her, hazel eyes flashing, "Never. He will not give them that pleasure."

The young woman looked surprised at Miriam before her face regained its serious lines, "I wish it were so."

The Incas cackled, causing Miriam to whirl back to look on their treatment of André. The poker hissed as it touched his unmarked skin on his chest, melting his flesh around the mark on the tip. André didn't scream, nor did he cry. He had closed his eyes and Miriam could see that he had bit his tongue in an effort not to show his pain.

The torture lasted two minutes. Two minutes during which Miriam couldn't keep her eyes off the hot poker deforming André's flesh. His black bruises that had awarded him this treatment shone in the fire. He didn't utter a single sound; he blinked repeatedly to keep the tears at bay while the fire burned his skin. Finally the Incas gave up, kicking him in the stomach as they released him, knowing he would be too weak to fight them. The slaves fled to their chambers, not wanting to attract the wrath of the disappointed Incas. Only when no one remained in center of the barrack did André collapse, breathing heavily, his hands covering his new mark.

Miriam rushed to his side, setting her arm around him so he wouldn't fall. André's eyes watered, the tears no longer held back. His knuckles turned white as he sheltered his mark from the sting of the air. Pain enveloped his body as he wheezed, attempting to stop the flow of tears that flew from his eyes.

"Miriam…it…it burns…" he breathed, bending over in pain.

Miriam's face flooded with concern as she stabilized André, preventing him from falling to the sandy floor beneath them. André forcefully closed his eyes, trying to drown out the aching throb that pulsed from his under his hands.

"Let me see," pressed Miriam, trying to take André's hands off his wound. André consented, removing his hands as he winced. The sun was placed in the middle of his chest, causing André double over in pain as the burnt skin was exposed to the air around them. It was a great Inca sun, the skin burned to an angry red. Miriam felt her brow furrow in sympathy as her eyes settled on the injury; André was branded for life.

"Never was… one for scars," André muttered weakly, the water stopping its flow from his eyes.

Miriam helped him to his feet, allowing him to lean on her, his head resting on her shoulder, "What happened?"

"They came for me at the quarry…" André winced, "I…I… was too surprised to fight back."

Miriam shook her head, "I didn't think this would happen."

"And you think I did?" asked André, attempting to cover his pained face with a mask of a smile.

"Careful," whispered Miriam, as she pushed the hide aside. Their chamber was dark, the same mat and hard cushion to one side, and their pail of water to the other. She sat down, aiding André onto the mat, resting his head on the hard cushion.

André looked at her gratefully, his hands once more protecting his scar, "Thanks."

Miriam smiled as she settled herself onto the hard sandy floor. She closed her eyes attempting to gain the sleep she so desperately needed, but she was plagued. In the darkness of the small quarter, Miriam heard the words echoing off the wall, the floor and the ceiling. An inhuman voice that whispered in the dark:

_Kill him_.

**A/N: I really like this chapter, especially the ending. And…I would like to inform you that…um…well…I won't be able to post for a while, probably until the 10th, or 11th (the airplane thing isn't very clear because there was a mistake) because I am going to visit my family in France now. Anyways, bear with me, I know that I live in a stone age and never seem to have the internet, but, it isn't that bad. You know, it is really weird, but I am leaving you with another cliffhanger, this time a really meaningful one…um, that should give you a lot to think about :) Hey, okay REALLY IMPORTANT: As you probably noticed, my author's note chapter is still up, that is because I was wondering _if you delete a chapter; do you still keep the reviews you received? And what if you replace it?_ Please answer this if you know, because I really think I should get rid of that author's note and it would really help me. You know, now that I have received the big 50, I really don't want to lose them :) Have a great first half of August! **


	12. Assassin

**A/N: **Ok, now I'm back for good. No more vacation. Which really hurts my feelings, but, hey, I wasn't born into royalty and have to go to school. If I don't update that much, it's because I am practicing and doing the try outs for the tennis team. So, anyways, thank you so much for all these reviews for chapter 11, it makes me feel much loved. Please don't be too critical on this chapter, as I am suffering a terrible case of writer's block and it took me a very long time to write this.

**Smithy: **I am so touched by your devotion to the Turners, and you are right because their family is not exactly in what we call an ideal situation; Elizabeth is in very bad conditions, giving premature labor, Will is dying for love of his wife (we always knew he loved her too much), Chris is missing in action and Miriam is a slave. Yeah, they have seen better times.

**Vampirehelsing: **André is such a great guy and everything bad seems to happen to him. He gets beaten half to death and then branded. No wonder he now hates the Incas with a fiery passion. I would too. He's so nice to Miriam and she is all hostile towards him. Great guy but not in the best of situations.

**Mysterious-muse: **You're story is sooo good. I can't wait until you update! I understand that you're waiting to get more reviews, it is a good thing, because you have to give people time to discover your story :) By the way, did I sense Jack cares about Constance? Hehe, sorry, I just really think they should get together, I mean, Will already has Elizabeth, doesn't he? Anyways, I am happy that you think I portray the Incas well, hey, I do my best :) Hope you like this chapter and keep writing!

**Eternalhope08: **YAY! Ali has been discovered, how will everyone react? (suspense music). A different Ali, one living in a galaxy far, far away, is discovering that Anakin is probably the handsomest and nicest Jedi around, what will happen now? (more suspense music). Don't leave us all hanging on the cliff forever on your story True Freedom cause we risk loosing our grip and falling:) Happy that you like my story, as for your questions…um…I guess you'll have to find out!

**Rose of Shade: **I'm back! Yeah, the main Inca drink was actually the chewed up corn, kinda gross. I broke open my head with a plate on my 3rd birthday, I wanted to see what was on the table and couldn't exactly reach, but don't worry, the plate got off a lot worse than I did :)…Jack, on the other hand, is fine, happy in the cupboard, away from my brother's pencils.

**Scarlet-rebELLE: **YAY! New reviewer! Why, thank you for the complement, I am really glad that I do not mangle the story :) This is really different from the other PotC fanfics, but lets just say that I am a creative genius…lol! Keep up the reviews, don't abandon me after this one ;)

**Now, the chapter you have all been waiting for…**

Chapter XI: Assassin

The condor did not fly overhead the city that morning, instead hiding from the world in its nest high in Andes. Darkness descended on the city, though the sun shone brightly through the soft, ever-present mist. No sound came from the mountains, and the llamas abstained from the fields of grass. The cry of terror and anguish that had shaken the city still rang from the building, echoing in the mountains.

Miriam knew it before Cuva had appeared screaming at the barrack door, calling all the guards available to the Acahuana estate. It had occurred to her in the middle of the night, waking her like a knife through her heart. She would have woken André, but for his face, contorted in pain, his hands never leaving his mark. Shaking her head lightly and reprimanding herself for her foolishness, calling it a dream, she had again nodded off to sleep. Yet a part of her knew that it was no dream, it was real and now it had happened.

The slaves woke with Cuva's screams, hesitantly pulling back their hide curtains. They walked out, their feet producing no noise as they compressed the sandy floor. Heads and eyes wandered, registering that no guards remained to beat them and chase them to their rooms. A mass of slaves surrounded the still steaming cauldron, grappling for the meager remainders of last night's dinner. André woke as well, quickly rising to his feet. His face was alert despite the sleep that lines his features.

"The guards are gone," whispered Miriam, the truth sinking in.

André turned to look at her, his face breaking into a grin, "Then let's make a break for the mountains, shall we?"

Miriam shook her head, "They have locked the barrack doors and will be back soon."

André swore swiftly and sat down on the mat, his face shadowed by his coal black hair, "Damn Incas."

Miriam shivered, as if injured by his words, "Don't say that André…not today."

"I will say it when I want to. They have beaten me and branded me; their have no sense of decency nor of human rights," André's eyes shone with hate towards his captors.

Miriam closed her eyes, pained, "Please, André, don't…"

His eyes softened slightly, "Why?"

Suddenly Miriam stood up, her dress swishing mutely. With one last look at the bewildered André she shot for the door, her hair streaming behind her.

Miriam didn't know which chamber of the many in the barrack belonged to Moonstone. She searched, drawing back the hides of each and peering into the darkness of the room. The chambers where all deserted; the slaves having fled to the cauldron of food, to mill in the center of the barrack, to feel free once again. Miriam drew back the hide of a small chamber, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness within as she glanced in. Moonstone long straight white hair fell perfectly over her back as she embraced a tall, black haired Inca, kissing him passionately. Miriam felt her eyes widen and her grip on the hide tighten in shock. For a few minutes she stood there, dumbstruck, unable to mouth a single word as Moonstone and the Inca kissed each other, hugging each other fiercely.

"Moonstone?" croaked Miriam, immobile at the doorway.

The young woman frowned as she immediately let go of her pair, the Inca stepping away hurriedly, readjusting his elegant robes.

"Who is it?" asked Moonstone, apparently annoyed.

Miriam forced her name out of her mouth, her hazel eyes clasped on the Inca, "Miriam."

Moonstone laughed merrily as she approached Miriam, leading her into the chamber by her hand, "Good morning, Miriam! What is the matter, do they want us to go earlier; do we have a special job today?"

Miriam only had eyes for the tall Inca. "Who is that?" she asked flatly.

"Uh?" asked Moonstone, looking around, "Oh!" she laughed, realizing Miriam meant her Inca companion, "That is Acahuana."

Miriam chocked.

"Who?" she asked weakly once she had regained a steady breathing.

Moonstone brushed her milky hair happily with her long fingers, humming a light tune, "Acahuana, Miriam, you know, the son of Lord Acahuana."

"Moonstone, do you know what you are saying?" attempted Miriam cautiously, not believing Moonstone's care free attitude of her actions.

"Of course I do, or else I wouldn't say it, would I?" grimaced Moonstone, encountering a knot in her hair.

"Um…how long has this been going on?" Miriam asked, deciding to try on a different note.

"Well…" thought Moonstone, having undone the knot in her hair, frowning she turned to Acahuana, "How long, Acahuana?"

Acahuana looked up, his strong features smiling at Moonstone's voice, "Since we met each other, when you first came here."

Moonstone smiled, her green eyes positively sparkling.

"How did you meet?" Miriam asked, feeling like an intruder.

"He was looking over this room on his mother's orders when I came in…and, well…lets just say that it was love at first sight!" finished Moonstone ecstatically.

Miriam looked from Moonstone, who was brushing the dust off her dress with a blissful expression on her flawless face, and Acahuana, who couldn't keep his eyes off the white haired young woman, and decided that all reason had dropped away from this conversation.

"Wait a second…did I forget to introduce you two?" exclaimed Moonstone, looking from Acahuana to Miriam.

Acahuana stood up as if hit by lighting, nodding at Moonstone.

"Acahuana, this is Miriam…" she told her companion.

Miriam smiled slightly, a nervous chuckle escaping her at the intense way the Inca was looking at her.

"and Miriam, this is Acahuana," finished Moonstone.

Acahuana suddenly leaned forward and hugged Miriam, who stiffened immediately. Then, before Miriam knew what was happening, Acahuana pressed his lips to hers, kissing her intensely. She was shocked, unable to move at this gesture.

"Let go of her!" growled a voice from the door.

André leapt into the room, tackling Acahuana. The tall Inca, taken by surprise crashed onto the coarse sandy floor. André wrapped his arm protectively around Miriam, glaring at Acahuana. Moonstone fell to the floor, helping Acahuana to his feet, all while looking accusingly at André, who still eyed the Inca whilst keeping Miriam beside him.

"André, I presume," stated Moonstone, shaking André's hand.

André nodded curtly, "And you are…"

"Moonstone," responded Moonstone, all anger and fury gone from her voice as she wiped the dust from Acahuana's clothes.

"What was _he_ doing to Miriam," seethed André, his crystal blue eyes chips of ice.

Moonstone laughed, kissing Acahuana briefly to show that she wasn't laughing at him, "Well, um…I kind of told Acahuana that when you greet a girl you kiss her…I guess I didn't explain very well…I am sorry…"

Acahuana looked up surprised, "I am not supposed to kiss her? Who is the one that threw me to the ground?"

Moonstone tied her hair into a knot at the back of her head, "You are not supposed to kiss her on the lips, only on the cheek, and as for the guy beside her, that is André, they have the same relationship as we do."

Miriam woke from her shock at this comment, shaking off André's arm brusquely, "We do not have any type of relationship, at all. Only two things connect us: one, he sat beside me on the slave boat and two, he shares the same room with me, I sleep on the floor and he sleeps on the mat."

Acahuana looked relieved, but then quickly adopted an apologetic visage, "I am sorry, Miriam, I didn't mean to offend you."

André tensed beside Miriam, "Well you did."

Miriam threw André a murderous glare, "Actually, he didn't. Either way, it is for me to decide and you to accept."

André steeped back, his crystal eyes losing their ice as he looked at her cautiously, "Miriam…"

Ignoring André, she resolutely walked towards Acahuana and pressed her lips to his briefly.

Acahuana looked at her bewildered and Moonstone was opening her mouth to complain.

"Nice meeting you," Miriam smiled at Acahuana before swinging around and striding towards the door. She threw back the hide and disappeared into the main chamber, not even awarding a gaping André one single look.

o o o

Miriam stood immobilized, not able to rip away her hazel eyes from the limp form of Lord Acahuana, head of the Acahuana _ayllu_. His wife's tears drowned his body, wetting his robes, which were stiff with dried blood. It had been murder. An arrow stuck through his throat, a dagger run five times through his back. No one spoke, only the wails of anguish from Anahuarque, now a widow, were heard over the shocked silence that surrounded them all. Slaves and lords alike stared down at the body, their minds struggling with this enigma. There had been no signs. The gardener had woken to find his lord's dead body sprawled over the flowering bushes of gardens adjacent to his room. No threats, no warnings. Yet Miriam knew who had killed him.

The conversation she had overheard was now clear to her. Urcon had killed his brother Acahuana. That thought had woken her in the night, the whispers leering at her in her troubled sleep. They had engulfed her and she had known that moment that Acahuana was no more. But the limp body in front of her was too much. Acahuana's eyes stared blankly ahead, no one bothering to close them forever yet. His robes were stiff and caked with dried blood, his wounds an ugly purple-green. The lord's bronze face was now ashen and pale with death, the underworld claiming him fully as his.

"This is indeed a sad day, but your grieving wounds us all more, Anahuarque, and it must cease," a cold emotionless voice broke Anahuarque's wails of grief.

Miriam froze as she recognized Urcon's inhuman voice. Anahuarque stood, her kind face swollen red with her tears.

"You are a widow, my sister," Chic'ya hissed, an unnatural smile of sympathy on her flawless face.

Anahuarque's face was pained a moment as she gasped, the realization still hazy in her mind. She was no longer the lady of the house, just a forgotten widow, her loved husband was dead. Murdered.

"I will speak to the council," stated Urcon, his eyes passing slowly over the shaking widow.

Anahuarque composed herself upon hearing these words, her eyes losing their grief at once.

"My son, Acahuana, is now the head of the _ayllu_, he alone may speak to the council, you remain, as always, behind all my sons," Anahuarque challenged, asserting her family's right to the head.

Urcon shrunk back, Chic'ya's beauty clouded by her eyes so saturated with hate. None of them dared rise up against the rightful head while surrounded by Inca high society. No, they would wait like coiled snaked for their moment to strike.

"I will find your son, Anahuarque, and inform him of this sorrowful happening," offered Urcon, his handsome face twisted into a grimace of a smile.

Anahuarque nodded, her mourning pushed away for the moment to defend her place in the _ayllu_ and the succession line of her sons.

Miriam knew that Urcon had killed Acahuana. He gained the most from it. He came one step closer to becoming head of the _ayllu_. All that stood in between him and the head was Anahuarque and her sons. They would be easy to get rid of. Miriam had to tell them. Acahuana's death was not natural, it was murder, and Urcon had committed it.

Anahuarque's tears stained her bronze cheeks as she once more kneeled beside her husband, sobbing softly into her dress. Children began to appear on the scene, their eyes wide and fearful as they saw the dead body of their father. The eldest daughter, the one so had so gracefully played the pipes floated beside her mother with her younger brother's help, her beautiful raven black hair falling over her shoulders as she reached out blindly to take her mother's hand in hers. A silent tear ran down her cheek as she lifted her face towards the sky.

"_Cuntur_," she uttered softly before the darkness enveloped the family, leaving them alone in their grief.

o o o

The slaves were ordered to the barracks, commanded to do nothing and leave the _ayllu_ to cover the house in mourning. Acahuana, son of the now dead Lord Acahuana, had been found and quickly brought to the estate before his mother. The council would grant him the rank of head of the Acahuana _ayllu_ today. Anahuarque was taking no chances in her son's succession; she would not let Urcon take the head.

Miriam walked silently back to her room in the barrack, still shaken by the deceased lord's body. The guards let her pass into the barrack without a word, their own eyes distant and unseeing. An unnatural fog hung in the breeze, obscuring everything and reducing the Andes to a faint silhouette. The slaves were nowhere to be seen in the center of the barrack, and silence reigned. André lay on the mat, his fingers passing casually over his wooden harmonica.

"Found out why our slavers decided to lock us all in this barrack like cattle?" he asked lightly once he noticed her.

Miriam walked over to the small window that decorated the bare stone wall. She passed her hands over the bars that held them prisoners, "Lord Acahuana is dead."

André's voice was harsh, "The less the better."

Her brown hair swished in the air as Miriam turned to face André, "He was murdered by Urcon."

André didn't seem remotely moved by this news, "In that case, did they kill Urcon as well?" he asked hopefully.

"I am the only one who knows Urcon killed him," Miriam muttered as she looked around the room, her eyes searching.

"How come?"

Miriam frowned slightly when she didn't find what she needed, "I overheard a conversation yesterday in-between Urcon and his wife, Chic'ya. They talked elusively about killing someone, but that even if they did his sons would still stand in the way. The person they designed their murder for was Acahuana, head of the Acahuana _ayllu_ and Urcon's older brother. It makes sense that they would rejoice in seeing Acahuana's dead body. In his death he leaves his family weak, and if Urcon waits and strikes when the time is right, then the head of the _ayllu_ is his."

Smiling to herself, Miriam wedged her foot between two iron bars. In one smooth motion the bars that held them imprisoned in their chamber fell to the floor, emitting a groan as they brushed against the stone frame of the window. André skittered to his feet, his blue eyes wide with surprise. Miriam smiled a self satisfied smile and hoisted herself up to the window.

"How did you do that?" spluttered André.

Miriam smirked, "It was made of half pint barrel hinges. With the right leverage, and the proper application of strength, the bars lifted free."

André laughed, grinning, "Then why didn't you free us sooner, you could have spared me a few scars."

Miriam rolled her eyes, "It never occurred to me. It was just two days, hardly seems a lot. There were too many guards, and besides, you always have to wait for the opportune moment."

"I've heard that before," though André.

Miriam jumped from the window, her hair streaming behind her as she landed solidly on the ground, looking around her quickly. Once she was satisfied that no one was near them and would notice their flee she stood, calling softly to André, "Remember to replace the bars in the window."

André glided down from the small window, "Already done."

Miriam nodded, moving swiftly towards the heart of the Inca city.

"Shouldn't we break for the mountains? We are less likely to be caught there than in the city."

"I must tell Anahuarque that Urcon killed her husband," murmured Miriam, slithering into an alley.

André followed, the beads and trinkets in his coal black hair jingling softly, "We should leave the Incas to their problems, we have enough with our own."

"I overheard the conversation, and, in a way, it is my duty to tell Acahuana's wife and children."

"These Incas don't deserve this," André commented, climbing mutely over a sleeping llama.

Miriam ignored him, deftly gliding through the constricted alleys. The Incas had deserted the streets to hide in their homes or go pray at the imposing temple. Women refrained from washing, turning the icy Urubamba River into a desolate picture of solitude. No condor flew through the skies and the city sleep in deathly silence, thinking who would be next.

**A/N:** **This is really short compared to the other chapters, but take into account that I have been suffering from writer's block. I'll try to post as soon as I can. I would also like to ask that if anyone who reads this right now knows the answer to this question please review and write the answer, because I can't find it anywhere on fanfiction: IF YOU DELETE A CHAPTER; DO YOU STILL KEEP THE REVIEWS YOU RECEIVED? AND WHAT IF YOU REPLACE IT?Please answer this if you know, because I really think I should get rid of that author's note and it would really help me. Anyways, review and have all the fun you can before school starts!**


	13. The Temple of the Sun

**A/N: Wow, I haven't updated this in 10 days. That is a loooong time. I hope that my faithful reviewers still know that I am writing. About that, just to clear any suspicions: I am NEVER going to quit this story. I plan to finish it, and hopefully by next year. So keep that in mind, even if the updates are slow, they _will_ come…trust me :) I have been having a very bad case of writer's block, and couldn't write any scene with Miriam and André in it without it appearing completely stupid and pointless, so I kind of concentrated on Acahuana's murder…actually, I think this chapter is really interesting. Don't worry; Miriam and André are in it, but….okay, I am saying no more. So now, READ:)**

**Disclaimer:** I have been forgetting this _a lot_, so, this disclaimer counts for the rest of this story. I already know that I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean nor any of their characters, so, no point to rub it in. Basically: Miriam, André, Chris and Incas – mine. Jack, Will, Elizabeth, Port Royal and anything else you recognize – not mine; Disney's.

**Mysterious-muse:** I knew you would like my use of the lines from PotC! I though it was kind of funny, don't you agree? I can understand about the updating, how come school starts so early for you? Is it because of the football team, because I know that my school starts on next Wednesday because of the football team? When do you get off? Hope you like this chapter and can't wait until you update, you are a great author and your stories ROCK:)

**Smithy:** So PotC occurred in the 17th century? I wasn't really sure of the date and kind of hoped it was before the 18th century, since the Incas had 'disappeared' the 15th century. Sorry this chapter isn't about the Turner parents, who are in their death bed, but about their slave daughter and her captors. Keep reviewing and I hope you like this chapter, it's a bit different from the rest:)

**Rose of Shade:** How was band camp? I need to call you. Well, I'll also be seeing you at Welcome Back Night tonight…so, see you there! No, the names don't mean anything in Spanish, their Inca names, and the Incas don't speak Spanish, they spoke (they are an extinct race, you might say) _Quechua. _I read a book about the Incas so that I knew enough to write a historically correct story and there are some pretty interesting things in there :) Enjoy the chapter and, by the way, when are you going to update your Raven's Secret? I like reading that…it's good and I am in it…lol! See you later!

**Scarlet- RebELLE:** lol! Thanks for not abandoning my, that is some weird paranoia I have. You see, as soon as I write YAY! New reviewer, I never hear from that person again, kind of weird. Anyways, since that is not your case, I am really glad you like my story, it is hard to write (trust me) and I appreciate that you like reading it! I checked your profile and you're not writing a story! You really should, because you sound like you have a few ideas up your sleeve :) About Chris…um…well, I am not going to tell you what I did with him, but if you stick along with the story you'll find out…it should be interesting. :) Keep up the reviews and enjoy the chapter!

**EternalHope08:** Writer's block sucks. I definitely agree with you. Your stories are soo good. True Freedom is shaping up: I read your new summary and what is this about a Legend of Theoa…um…sound really interesting! Keep those updates coming! Bud to Bloom is also turning out very well, I like it how both Ali and Anakin are jealous, it is a good way to show that they both really like each other! Guess what? I made it on to the Tennis team! It really wasn't due to my great skills, more to the small amount of people that showed up (not a lot of cuts) but hey! I'm still happy :) Hope you like this chapter, it is kind…different, tell me what you think.

**Now, enjoy … (yeah, its Chapter 13 when it actually is supposed to be Chapter 12, but you know I am having problems with that Chapter 9)…**

Chapter XII: The Temple of the Sun

Anahuarque gazed out the large window, her eyes blank and unseeing. Her kind face was red and swollen from her long hours of mourning, from the shock of seeing her husband's dead body sprawled on the dirt floor. The widow's hair was done in a simple Inca fashion, the maids having left her alone in her grief once their job was done. Her mind struggled to concentrate on the tall peak of _Huayna Picchu_ but was faced with Acahuana's staring eyes. Anahuarque felt a tear fall once more down her cheek and fall off her trembling jaw.

A soft swishing alerted her to the presence of another being in the room. Hastily wiping her face with a wet handkerchief she turned, fixing her regal visage for the public to see. What she saw took her completely by surprise. A young woman looked at her, her wavy dark hair fighting the braid she had made in an attempt to keep it back. Her brown wool dress alerted Anahuarque of her slave position. Behind the young woman, a young man let his amazingly bright blue eyes wander around the room curiously, his attire odd. Anahuarque felt herself swell with fury at this intrusion, how dare two slaves enter her rooms? She was the wife of the _curaca_ of the Acahuana _ayllu_…no…she was a forgotten widow, all respect towards her forgotten at her husband's death.

"Why do you disturb me?" Anahuarque snapped, her small hands resting on the window.

The young woman frowned, her gaze cautious, "We do not speak Inca, my lady."

Anahuarque reprimanded herself for her lack of intelligence; they were slaves, they would not speak _Quechua_. "Why do you disturb me?" she snapped once more, but in their language.

"Urcon murdered Acahuana," stated the young woman simply, her gaze never wavering from Anahuarque's face.

Anahuarque felt her stomach convulse and her eyes water at such an emotionless talk of her husband, "You lie."

"No, I do not. I overheard Urcon and Chic'ya planning the murder the night before. They aim is set to become _curaca_ of the Acahuana _ayllu_."

Anahuarque shook with rage, her mind blocking the truthful words of the slave girl, "You lying wench! How dare profane upon my family?"

The young man beside the young woman tensed, his blue eyes cold as he spoke, "She tells the truth, Inca woman, and I would like to advise you to watch your tongue when you speak to her. She put on hold her freedom to tell you this, to save your life and that of your children. The least I expect you to do is show her respect, savvy?"

The young woman turned around, "That was unnecessary André; I can speak for myself."

André didn't respond, instead resuming his search of the empty room, once or twice glancing at the hide that covered the door. Anahuarque didn't know what to think, the death of her husband was still raw in her mind; she could not blame her husband's brother.

"I don't believe you," she breathed.

The young woman offered a small smile, "I can do nothing about that, but I will warn you that Urcon will attempt to kill your son, and if you stand in his way he will not hesitate to kill you as well. He will show no mercy until he and his wife are situated where they wish to be."

The young woman turned to leave, motioning the young man, named André, to follow her.

"Wait!" Anahuarque cried out, her mind doubting. Both turned to face her, the young woman's face unreadable as Anahuarque whispered, "Did he speak of the sun?"

Silence reigned the room as the young woman furrowed her brow, remembering. After a few minutes she lifted her face slowly, her hazel eyes guarded, "Yes, he did. He said that he must carry out the plan before _Inti Ramyi_, that only then can he be the sun, as the Gods proclaimed it."

Anahuarque sucked in her breath as her mind struggled with the horrible realization.

"No…no…it can't be…," the Inca woman whimpered, her face pale.

The slave girl leaned forward, her young face curious, "What can't be?"

But Anahuarque had no time to answer as the hide was swept open to allow in a triumphant Urcon, his beautiful wife smirking behind him.

André pulled Miriam out of the center of the room, drawing her back into the wall, attempting to pass unnoticed. Armed guard streamed into the room behind Urcon, their weapons held firmly in their hands.

"Anahuarque, my dearest sister," leered Urcon, motioning the guards that flanked him to halt.

The older woman looked at Urcon with as much welcome as a capybara has for the ocelot.

"Now, I have spoken to the council and…" Urcon began, his eyes looking around the room.

"You cannot speak to the council. Only my son can, he is the _curaca_ of the _ayllu_, not you," responded Anahuarque, her pale face regaining its color.

Urcon ignored her, his eyes narrowing into slits as they came to rest on André and Miriam, "You lower yourself to speak with slaves now, my sister? Or are they simply here for the matter of money."

Anahuarque didn't award the slaves a single glance as they were immediately surrounded by slaves, André pushing Miriam behind him, far from the wavering spear points aimed at their hearts.

"Money? Please do make yourself clear, my brother," hissed Anahuarque, straitening to her full height.

Urcon smile froze the air of the room, "You know perfectly well of what we speak. A deed such as that one could have hardly been carried out by a woman."

Anahuarque countered, not knowing what else to do, "What deed?"

Urcon's smile grew. With a flick of his wrist he motioned two guards forward.

"Search for proof," he ordered, not bothering to keep his voice down.

Anahuarque glared at the guards, outraged, "This is my private chamber, and the council has made it clear that no private piece of property shall be searched without reasonable suspicion. I demand you withdraw your guards from my chamber, my brother, if you do not wish my son to report this to the council."

Urcon didn't answer, nor did he order his guards to halt their destruction of Anahuarque's room in their search for proof. Instead he stood in the center of the chamber, his green cape spreading on the ground around him, an aura of power radiating from his smug smile.

Miriam glared as the guards lowered their spears to search the chamber as their master, Urcon, had ordered.

"André, get off of me," Miriam wheezed as she attempted to push André off of her.

André moved immediately, his blue eyes never leaving the menacing figure that Urcon represented.

Miriam rubbed her back as she searched the room with her eyes, "Why are they here?"

A guard cried out, his voice attracting all attention in the room towards him. His face was frightful and scared as he glanced in Anahuarque's direction before presenting his trophy to Urcon. The small dagger twirled in Urcon's fingers, the dried blood on its surface glinting in poor light. Anahuarque let out a strangled cry, holding herself against the window frame for support. Urcon smiled, his thin lips curling as he turned on Acahuana's widow.

"You have been found out, my sister," he hissed as Chic'ya sneered from behind him.

Anahuarque let out a small, almost inaudible whimper.

Urcon's smile widened as he carelessly passed the bloody dagger to an awaiting guard, "I stand for the council of the Inca and accuse you of planning and carrying out, my brother, Acahuana's murder."

Miriam thought Anahuarque would faint as the accusing words left Urcon's lips. The Inca woman visibly swayed, her breathing labored as she attempted to regain control of herself. Chic'ya smiled, her beautiful features stained by the hatred portrayed on her face.

"The punishment for murder is death on the foot of the jagged cliffs of the Andes," Urcon continued, altogether ignoring Anahuarque's struggle.

The bronze skinned guards closed in on Anahuarque.

"However," Urcon grinned, his solemn air vanishing, "I have petitioned to the council that your punishment not be as severe."

Miriam frowned, her face not trusting Urcon's consoling words. André's expression was unreadable as he surveyed the scene in front of him.

"You will be punished as for a petty theft," Urcon smiled malignantly.

Anahuarque let out a dry sob, her body shaking.

The guards looked at the Inca woman apprehensively but stood their ground as Urcon's voice once more cut through the thick air around them, "Your eyes will be gouged out and your hands cut off for your crime."

Miriam felt her eyes widen. The Inca laws were harsh, and the punishment for petty crimes, seemed to her, worse than death at the bottom of a cliff. She sensed André shiver involuntarily next to her. Anahuarque collapsed on the floor, her tears escaping her eyes as her frail body shook, the sadness and mourning for her husband forgotten as she mourned for her misfortunes and her past life that she would no longer enjoy.

"We will give you time to dress. Two guards outside your chamber will escort you to the temple once you are done. The council is ready, and the punishment for my brother's murder must be carried out," Urcon said, wrinkling his nose in disgusts as Anahuarque's sobs grew louder. Without a further word, he slipped out from the chambers, his green cape swishing mutely behind him as he disappeared.

Miriam had never before seen a woman so broken, so beyond despair. Anahuarque sobbed softly, never stirring from the ground as she cried out her grief. Tears drenched her elegant robes…tears from eyes that would soon turn the world black for the Inca woman. Miriam felt her hand reach out, heard her feet step forward on the coarse ground. She gently stroked the Inca's long black hair, hushing softly under her breath. The sobs diminished; faded into the distant Andes, never to be heard again. Miriam's brown hair fell in wavy cascades over her shoulder as she tenderly helped the grown woman sit. The melody of Miriam's soft comforting hum drifted through the chamber, now bathed in the rays of the warm sun as it shone through the obstructing clouds. Anahuarque's timid eyes lifted to Miriam's face, sadness etched in the lines that surrounded them. For a few minutes she didn't speak; content with simply gazing at the young woman and being soothed by the gentle music. Then finally her kind lips opened, her words quiet and whispered, fear shining frightfully in her kind, innocent eyes, "Who are you?"

Miriam felt the tiniest of smiles tug at the corners of her lips, "Miriam."

o o o

Anahuarque dressed simply. A white flowing dress draped itself around her frail figure, trailing on the floor until it disappeared. Her pale bronze face was covered by a transparent white veil that fell to where it blended into the creases of her dress. An unadorned braid drew all of her black hair back, ending lightly below her waistline. She muttered not a word, but Miriam followed her quietly. André trailed behind them, his face bowed and hands down at his sides. His strides were silent and solemn, his presence that of a ghost. Miriam nodded at the guards, signaling that they were ready to follow.

The streets of the Inca city were silent. No one walked the streets, and no one appeared at the windows or doors as the small party made their way to the heart of Machu Picchu. The shadow of the Mountains reigned over their heads as the sun dipped lower in the sky. Not once did Anahuarque lift her face to the skies. The veil streamed over her bowed head, covering her eyes, nose, mouth and cheeks from the world beyond her. Once during the walk, Miriam though she saw a single tear falling to the ground. It sparkled a pure white as it cascaded; the sun glinting on its transparent light, distributing rainbows everywhere until the precious gem shattered, dispersing on the coarse dirt ground. But Anahuarque made no noise, nor did she lift move or make any attempt to see the bright sun above their head, and the tear could have been a trick of the light, or a tear from the gods.

The Temple of the Sun rose imposingly before them as they strode nearer to its tall looming shape. The stones were covered in moss, decayed by time and the mystic fog that hung over the valley. The steps of the temple challenged Anahuarque, daring her to climb and meet the high priest upon its pinnacle. The small Inca woman didn't stop walking as her feet conquered the first steps. Miriam went to follow, but a small bronze hand stopped her. Anahuarque's dark eyes bore into hers, expelling all emotions before they could no more.

Her kind voice whispered silently as the breeze carried her words to Miriam's ears, "No. I thank you for your help. Protect my children and live happy. I must do this alone."

Miriam halted, her brow furrowed in question, but she did nothing and watched Anahuarque continue her march. A comforting arm wrapped itself around her shoulders and she felt as a familiar voice whispered into her ear, "We can leave now, if you want."

Miriam shook her head, her eyes never leaving the Inca woman's figure, "Thank you, André, but I must watch her."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," André said, his voice grim.

"I have no choice."

The large crowd of Inca emitted a curious sound as Anahuarque faltered in her rise on the steps. The guards pressed her with their spears gently, not wanting to harm the kind woman. Anahuarque turned, her face covered in her veil as she faced the large crowd at the foot of the temple.

"Yesterday night was the same as any other," her voice echoed on the walls of the mountains as silence followed her words. The guards lowered their spears and observed her curiously.

Drawing a breath, she continued, "My husband, Acahuana, _curaca_ of the Acahuana _ayllu_, and I, Anahuarque, slept on the under the hides of our mat, the door to the gardens slightly ajar."

Miriam felt André's grip tighten around her.

"I never sensed him awake from his sleep. Nor did was I aware that he had left our mat."

The public began to stir slightly at her words, whispers suddenly filling the air.

"I awoke and wondered where he had gone. He was dead. Murdered. His unmarked chest was bloody with the ruby blood that had spilled from his body at the stabs of a dagger. His throat pierced by a dark arrow to cover his screams."

The crowd was moving, agitated. Cries rose up at Anahuarque's words, cries of forgiveness and outrage. Miriam felt as someone roughly shoved her aside. André blue eyes flashed but he merely glared as Urcon raged past them, his green cape billowing in the breeze he created. His handsome face contorted with anger and hate.

"He was my husband. The father of the many children that resulted from our joyous union. I didn't commit the crime that I was accused of," Anahuarque's strong voice rose above the roar of the crowd.

"STOP HER! SHE HAS NO RIGHT TO SPEAK! BRING HER TO THE TOP!" shrieked Urcon, spit flying from his mouth, the many guards behind him charging up the steps of the temple to Anahuarque.

The two guards that had merely been listening to Anahuarque's speech picked up their spears raising them with renewed menace. Anahuarque looked about her frantically and began running up the steps with a new vigor. Her flee didn't stop the flow of words as she chose to run across the steps, skirting the temple top.

"My husband, Acahuana was murdered by his brother, Urcon," she voiced, the words shocking the public momentarily. They watched her run, her white dress held up by her bronze hands as the news sunk in quietly.

"LIES, ALL LIES!" Urcon shrieked once more, as whispers and cries began to fill the air yet again, "SHE IS GUITLY OF MURDER; THE DAGGER FOUND IN HER ROOM! STOP HER! SILENCE HER!"

Anahuarque found herself trapped in her race as a ten guards appeared at her left, while the two still chased her to her right. A frightened cry emitted from her throat as she acknowledged that there was no way out for her. Facing the guards she backed up toward the edge of the temple. One step away from a hundred feet fall.

Gently, with the care of a mother, Anahuarque lifted her white veil and turned her tear stained face to the dumbstruck Incas. A small smile lifted her cheeks as her great dark eyes looked fondly over everyone below her.

"Protect my children from, my brother, Urcon's, wrath. Thank you," she whispered, yet her soft voice seemed to reach everyone's ears. With those soft words, her small body plummeted off the battlements, falling towards the ground. The sun glinted off her bronze face as everyone watched her fall in silence. The white veil fluttered in the wind, flapping wings like a graceful bird. The great white dress billowed around her as it engulfed her body in a pure white mass. Mutely, her beautiful fall was altered as the white of the dress hit the ground, dispersing to show Anahuarque's smiling bronze features. Those dark black eyes were closed, as if in slumber. The veil fell weightlessly on her chest, its fall delayed by the feathery lightness of the soft silk.

Miriam felt her heart freeze at the sight of Anahuarque, who would now receive her long awaited beside her gods. A silent tear traced its way down Miriam's cheek as grief and shock overcome her. She turned to face André, finding his blue eyes gazing into hers full of sadness. Gently, his strong arms brought her closer to him as she buried her face in his chest. She felt André's chin resting on her head and smiled as she remembered Anahuarque's last words. No words were needed as the Incas cried in silence at the fall of the widow. Death looked beautiful on Anahuarque's calm and serene face, and all knew that she had found her husband above. André forced the tears that threatened to fall back into his body. His arms held Miriam tightly to him, and he felt her sadness radiating everywhere. As his blue eyes gazed at the fallen figure of Anahuarque he could of swore that he saw a small butterfly spread its wings out of her chest. It rose slowly into the sky, the intense light of the sun gleaming on its silky white wings. The small bronze head of the butterfly always looked up towards the sky above, and soon it disappeared beyond the clouds and into the dazzling light of the warm sun forever.

**A/N: I hope that you liked that Chapter. Tell me what you think: was it too descriptive, should it be more forward, or do you this poetic way of writing prose? Please tell me what you think. I hope to be able to update soon, but with tennis going on every day and school just one week away I don't know. Please review and tell me what you think! Enjoy the rest of your vacations:)**


	14. Oceana

**A/N: Long time no see! Well, school has started for me, and I will be posting more slowly than before, though not as slowly as when I went on vacation (one month is way too long) But don't worry, because I have great plans for this story and am not going to quit writing it anytime soon. I am experiencing a bit of writers block, so this chapter is here as a break from the Incas, Miriam and André. **

**Smithy**: Thanks for helping with the time, I was hoping that is wasn't in the 18th century or anything because of the little problem with the Incas. I think that your need for information on the Turners will be satisfied, if even just a little in this chapter, enjoy!

**Rose of Shade**: I wonder if you changed your name yet, or if I am doing this right…um…lol! Inca mummies, that is a good idea, I should include them in this somewhere, even if just a mention. Hope you like this chapter, it is all about Jack, so it's bound to be interesting :)

**Mysterious-muse:** I am glad that you like the poetic words, I though it went along with the whole death theme of the chapter, you know, kind of like a final ode to Anahuarque. You have to keep writing you're stories, I was re-reading both of them yesterday and can't wait for more! I know it is hard with school, but don't forget them!

**Vampirehelsing:** Yes, it was very sad. I kind of liked Anahuarque, she was not like Chic'ya and in a way respected the slaves. It was sad that she committed suicide. I was reading your story, Ice Statue, and it is really good. I especially like the first chapter, it is very poetic and sorrowful. Very sad, just like my last chapter.

**Jopie1904:** Thank you so much for your reviews, they mean a lot to me. I completely agree with you; Miriam does have her mother's temper. I know that you are curious about our dying Will and Elizabeth, hopefully this chapter will satisfy some of that curiousity. I really like your story, and I can't wait to see what is going to happen when Nathan learns that Lynn is pregnant! But Jack will protect her…right? Keep writing, it is awesome!

**Mistress of the Pearl**: YAY, new reviewer, now, please don't abandon me (I know, I am pretty pathetic, but I love my reviews :) We don't know what happened to Chris, last time we saw him, he was unconscious with a deadly fever at the slave market, so we are assuming he died…but, you never know ;) Moonstone is not really her name, more like her nick name, no one knows what her real name is, and since she is so uncaring about family, she probably doesn't either. Enjoy this chapter and please tell me what you think!

**Scarlet-rebELLE**: I completely agree with you; André is absolutely an amazingly hott name. Have you seen 'Timeline' the movie (it is also a book)? Gerard Butler is so hott and handsome in that movie, he is, by the way, André Marek. That is were I got the name, If you haven't seen that movie, defiantly do so, it is my fav, and really good!

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Pirates of the Caribbean, I won't be writing this. Use your common sense.

Chapter XIII: Oceana

The red sun disappeared beyond the horizon, letting the sky darken with night. Small lights of fires and life played and danced on the approaching island rebellious against the shadowy cloak of the night. They dueled with the scintillating of the white diamond stars and the pale face of the smiling moon. The _Black Pearl_ broke through the violet tinted water, its dark hull parting the waves of the restless sea to make way for the bulk of the large ship. Sails were being raised, and the commotion on board increased as the flaming lights drew nearer with each lulling pull of the waters beneath.

Jack stood of the helm, his callused hands roaming softly over the smooth caressed wood of the wheel. He had left Will and Elizabeth. The doctors now struggled with both dwindling lives. Will's fever had grown to an alarming height, as he whispered his wife's name softly in his delirium. Elizabeth didn't wake from her hoarse screams in her early labor, her voice fading to a murmur as her throat bleed from the tension. The doctors had thrown Jack out, demanded he return in a week with a simple list of ingredients. They had grown tired of having him burst into the chambers of the sick unexpected and refused to have him around anymore. The ingredients had been simple; most were stored in the stores of the _Pearl_, but now, with days left to spare he had decided upon something he should have done long ago.

"Tortuga," a soft voice broke through Jack's thoughts, bringing him back to look upon Anamaria's grim face.

Jack nodded, acknowledging the presence of his first mate, "Aye."

"Why now Jack? Why, after all these years?" Anamaria asked kindly.

Jack didn't answer, his face impassive though his eyes betrayed the fear and determination he felt. Anamaria pursed her lips with discontent, but didn't press the matter as she left; giving orders to drop the anchor as they neared the roaring port of the sinful island. Jack felt his grip tighten on the wheel as he though of Will's last coherent words: _Promise me Jack, tell them that mother and father loved them, very much, and that we are proud of whatever they will become._ Jack stared at the fires, his eyes chocolate eyes narrowed, converting them into dark lines of black kohl. His mind focused on a pair of intense lagoon blue eyes that time had fogged with mist.

o o o

Men kicked each other in the streets, drunk with the rum that wet the mud beneath them. The flickering firelight of the taverns illuminated the streets, luring customers towards the release they would find in a mug of rum and ale. Women paraded the alleys, their scantily clad bodies insinuating what men would get for a few meager coins. The clicking of money on counters reverberated across the town, joined as men and women alike drowned in drink or discretely paid their share for a desirable night. Games of chance were played in the flooded wood of the port. The winner walking away cheerfully, only to find themselves bleeding deeply; an iron bullet embedded in their dead backs. Death and sin rolled in masses into the ground, tumbling heavily into the underworld as the cries and jeers continued drunkenly above the surface.

Jack gave the night off to his men, knowing fully well they adored this town like no other. Knowing they relished its smells and tastes. Just like he once had savored the mud streets, the ample women and the constant flowing of the drink. He carefully sidestepped a brawl, putting his hands together, as if in prayer, in apology as he knocked them over into a shrieking woman. The men paid no attention as they diverted their attention to a barrel of rum nearby. Jack continued on his way, his drunken swagger blending him in with the scent of rum around him. He hadn't stepped these streets in 11 years; the thoughts and memories driving him away from the haunted alleys. His crew hadn't protested; they too had loved the little boy that ran around the deck, agilely climbed the ropes and dived into the sea shrieking in delight.

His leather boots dug into the mud as he halted, his chocolate brown eyes passing quickly over the sign that hung, creaking softly in the salty wind. The noises of the brawl sounded dim from faraway, as if muted by a dense fog. The building stood imposing among its twins around its frame. Soft yellow light pooled into the street, making the mud glisten slightly in reflection. Shadows moved across the dimly lit windows, specters in the dark, silent night that enveloped the dwelling.

Gently, he pushed on the dark wood door. The lobby was dark only a single light by the tired owner sprawled on the counter illuminated the room, creating shadows on the wall. Jack swagger to the man, awkwardly patting him to jerk him awake. The owner opened his eyes sleepily, but upon seeing Jack, his face lost all trace of sleep as he rummaged through a drawer for a quill.

"I don't want a room," Jack said, his dark eyes narrowing in though as he leaned on the counter.

The owner paused his search to look up at Jack, confused, "Then what will it be?"

"Where to find her," Jack stated, pointing to a scribbled name on a small piece of parchment he had taken out of his pocket.

The owner looked over it quickly, then nodding wagged his finger up the stairs, "Third door to the right…and I'd be cautious if I were you, she isn't one for visitors."

Plopping a coin down on the counter, Jack rushed up the stairs and quickly found himself facing the door he had been looking for, he nervously caressed the two braids that hung from his chin. Sighing he pushed open the door. The second his leather boot collided with the floor beneath him, an icy cold blade came to rest menacingly at his throat.

"Why, if it isn't Jack Sparrow. I though I had seen the last of you," a soft voice taunted in his ear.

"CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow," Jack corrected automatically, then, he grinned at the woman that held the blade to his neck, "No one ever sees the last of Captain Jack Sparrow, Oceana."

The woman growled, pressing the blade more forcefully, "That is CAPTAIN Oceana Taylor to you."

"Actually, I heard yer boat…ship, went down with a nasty gale…lost all yer crew but survived three days floating on yer back before two dolphins brought ye to shore," Jack stated, pushing the blade away from him with his finger tip. The woman brought down her curved sword, tilting her head back to laugh heartily.

"You haven't changed," she smirked, looking him over. Jack grinned and took the opportunity to return the compliment. Oceana was a tall, strong woman, her tan skin matching his own. Her coal black hair fell in silky cascades over her shoulders, glinting blue in the moonlight that shone through the window. Her straight features made her exotically beautiful. The hem of her long, blue, bohemian skirt brushed the ground lightly as she moved. Her belt was strong, and made of leather, hidden partly behind a shawl she had wrapped around her waist loosely. The white blouse she wore was open slightly at the top, but failed to show much. But, for all her beauty, it was her intense turquoise eyes that drew men towards her.

"Ye haven't either, luv," Jack commented, feeling more at ease without a blade at his throat.

The laugher faded from the air to be replaced by a soft hiss, "Don't call me luv, Jack, you threw that chance away long ago."

Jack held up his hands in surrender, "Promise I won't offend ye, savvy?"

Oceana narrowed her striking blue eyes, "You better not, Sparrow, I could kill you any moment that it becomes my whim to see you on the floor, the life sucked out of you forever. Don't bother fighting back; you know that I excel beyond you with the sword…but you would be death before you even went to your sword, there are other ways to die."

Jack shifted uncomfortably. He knew she hadn't lied. Oceana was the daughter of gypsies, and consequently knew how to brew many potions and venoms. The threat hung in the air for a few moments before Jack grinned at her, wrapping his arm around her small shoulders, "Then I wouldn't want to be doing that, wouldn't I?"

Oceana's sensuous red lips parted into a smile as she broke herself free of his grip to sit upon her bed, "Make yourself comfortable, Sparrow, and please, do tell me what you came for, because I have business to attend to."

Jack raised an eyebrow as he sat down on a small chair, "Business?"

Oceana paid no heed to his suggestive tone of voice, "I am no whore, Jack. There is no need for me to sell my body to scum like you. This city has many other ways to gain myself a bag of gold."

Jack didn't give up so easily, "Which of the many ways would ye be pertaining to?"

Oceana leaned back on the wooded head of her bed, inspecting her nails idly, "Do you really want to find out, Sparrow? I am sure we could arrange for something to slip into your drink unnoticed."

Jack furrowed his brow in disapproval. Oceana was paid to commit murder. She hadn't changed since their days together; back then she had been as unconscious of human life as now.

"If you are quite done with your interrogation, we could move on, I don't have all night."

Jack coughed, speaking only one word to the icy woman in front of him, "André."

The tension in the small room changed as Oceana paled visibly, her features hearing the loss and urgency in Jack's voice. Her eyes lost their glint as they turned on Jack, full of anger, pain and love.

"Where is my son?" she whispered, her wispy voice invading the smallest corners of the chamber.

Jack's eyes were pained as he spoke, "He has been captured by slave dealers."

Oceana opened her mouth in horror, her face twisting into a mask of pain and suffering. Her body heaved slightly as she let out a dry sob escape her lips. Jack silently stood up, approaching the bed wearily. Oceana slowly raised her hand to her eyes as tears began to flow freely. She was silent as she tried to control her uneven breathing, but her sobs came out either way. Gently, Jack wrapped his arms around her; hold her close to him, caressing her smooth, black hair. After a few moments, Oceana wrenched herself free of his comforting arms, her eyes sparkling with anger and hate.

"You took my son away from me, you lost him, and now he might be dead," she hissed, rising slowly and dangerously from her bed. The tears had stained glistening lines down her cheeks but she ignored then.

Jack did not rise to the challenge, "He's _our_ son, luv."

Oceana's eyes narrowed, glowing in the poor light, "He's my son, you gave him up when you lost me. He hates you."

Jack flinched at her last words. Regaining his composure he drawled, "Aye, I have noticed that he is running away from my efforts to catch him and make him see that I love him. But what you seem not to understand fully it that I love him, Oceana, more than I have ever felt I could love someone. If he would kill me, I would die a happy death."

Oceana's eyes lost their anger as she nodded in understanding. The room fell silent as neither spoke, remembering their son.

"I saw him a few months ago," Jack ventured.

Oceana looked up sharply, her eyes full of hope, "How was he? Has he grown?"

Jack couldn't help smiling as the woman's cool defenses gave away, her need to hear of her son greater than her life, "I was looking for him, I have ever since he ran away from us, pushing both of his parents into the dark. It was a fine day, the winds were favorable and the waves small. We came across a ship, a pirate ship like our own and decided to exchange greetings. It was a calm and peaceful day and neither of us could afford to break the serene tranquility that had fallen over the sea. The captain came aboard our ship, while our crews mingled to trade tales of their ventures. I was still in the brig, arranging for some rum to be brought up. But Gibbs talk to the captain, and all the captain did talk about was his first mate. The first mate that had a heart of gold, the first mate that was more agile in battle than all of his men combined, the first mate that oddly forsook the company of women in his bed, though he did woo them. When I came up, the captain almost had a heart attack. He looked at me very strangely before he asked one of his men to get his first mate for him. It was André; André was the first mate. You can imagine everyone when we stood there, analyzing each other. He's grown, luv, same height as me, same build, same face, same hair, but darker like yers. He's practically my twin…in younger. But he has yer blue eyes, Oceana, those blue eyes of yers. They are the same as yers, those intense blue turquoise eyes. Took one look at me and spit at my feet. I couldn't say anything, but I didn't mind the action, hell, he could spit on my face and I wouldn't care! Then he drew his sword, threatened me, told me to finish my job, apparently though I was going to kill him. So I handed my sword to Gibbs, but André say it as a draw and he raised his sword in warning. They left. The captain took his first mate, my son and left. Figured that what we had was better left for land than a ship. I tried chasing the ship, but they fired their cannons, they didn't want me to even some near 'em."

Oceana's face cringed in sadness as she turned her eyes to the floor, "Why?"

Jack looked at the woman that was now in his arms, "I don't know, luv, but I want him to know that we love him."

Oceana stood up, her skirt swishing mutely on the wood boards. She paced the room, her arms folded over her chest. After a while she turned sharply to Jack, her eyes once more cold like the icy wind of the North.

"Why did you come?"

"Because I have learned something, luv. I cannot live without ye. Yer eyes are constantly plaguing me. I cannot live without our son, his eyes, yer eyes, they glare at me whenever I close my eyes. I haven't taken a single woman to my bed after ye."

Oceana didn't move, her eyes showing fear, "What the hell is that suppose to mean?"

"I luv ye."

Oceana's eyes got very wide, and her mouth opened in a silent 'oh'. Jack walked across the room and moved to take her into his arms. Oceana slapped his hands away.

"Don't touch me," but her voice wavered.

"Luv, I have learned that if I die, I will die a sad and miserable man without ye," Jack pressed, trying once again to wrap his arms around her shaking shoulders.

Oceana slapped his arms away once more, her voice growing to alarming heights, "Bloody hell, Jack, I told you; don't touch me!"

Sighing Jack lowered himself to the ground on one knee in front of Oceana, and gently took out a small silver ring decorated with a large sapphire from his pocket. He fingered it as Oceana's breathing grew labored.

"I always though this stone matched yer eyes; that's why I had to find it once that bastard, Barbossa, took it from me," his eyes traveled up into the woman's frightened eyes, "Captain Oceana Taylor, will ye marry me, and become Captain Oceana Sparrow?"

For a second, Oceana swooned at his words, her eyes closing as she attempted to stabilize herself on the desk beside her. She quickly passed a hand over her eyes and concentrated on the sparkling gem in front of her. Once she took the hand off of her eyes, they were once again unreadable, her face passive and her body in complete control.

"I get 50 of your plunder," she snapped, a smirk slowly spreading on her flawless face.

Jack stood from the floor, his golden teeth flashing as he grinned in response, "25."

"75," countered Oceana, laughing now.

Jack enveloped her in a tight embrace, his deft fingers running down her back, "We'll leave it at 100 and it's a deal."

"And what will you give to our son, after we free him from slavery I am sure he is going to want some gold," Oceana teased, running her fingers tenderly down Jack's cheek.

Jack groaned, "God woman, I'm going to go bankrupt with ye! This ring already cost enough."

Oceana admired the ring on her finger from inside Jack's embrace, "Then I'll keep it, I always liked precious stones."

Jack let out an outraged cry, "Ye were going to sell it?"

Oceana flashed him a sly grin, "I saw it in your pocket when you came in…let's just say that once you had finished with your drink, you wouldn't need it anymore. Now I am happy you spoke up soon enough, it would have been a pity to kill you."

Jack let out a chuckle, "I'm going to keep an eye on ye, Mrs. Sparrow."

"All you need to do is keep an eye on your tongue, because if you ever call me Mrs. Sparrow again, I would watch what you drink," Oceana glared at him momentarily.

Jack smiled, "I like a challenge."

Then, before Oceana could answer he covered her lips with his and enveloped her in a passionate kiss.

**A/N: Yes, a very heartwarming chapter; André's parents finally get married. Seriously, with a pirate for a father and a murdering gypsy for a mother, I am really surprised on how André turned out. Okay, now I am opening myself up to questions. When you review this chapter I want you to ask every question that you have about André's parents. Go ahead and review like crazy, after school started last Wednesday I need those reviews to feel better :) Thanks guys!**


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